THE 

OFFICER'S   BRIDE. 

A  Tale  of  the  French  Revolution* 


BY 
OCTAVE  FEUILLET. 


t^v^  J^ 


NEW    YORK: 

HURST  and  COMPANY, 
PUBLISHERS. 


CONTENTS. 


rf-60 


Chapter  Page 

I.   ON  THE  SEA-SHORE 5 

II.   GHOSTLY  SIGHTS 28 

III.  TREACHERY 52 

IV.  THE  CANONESS  SUSPECTED 64 

V.   THE  WHITE  FEATHER 76 

VI.   THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS 93 

VII.   LIBERTY  AND  EQUALITY... 107 

VIII.   GENERAL  HOCHE  123 

IX.   A  SOLITARY  JOURNEY 136 

X.    SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU 153 

XL   A  DEED  OF  DARING 169 

XII.   THE  MENDICANT 193 

XIII.  A  LETTER  OF  IMPORTANCE 216 

XIV.  ALIX 238 

XV.   BURIED  ALIVE 264 


E273839 


The  Officer's  Bride. 

AN    HISTORICAL   NOVEL. 

BY   OCTAVE    FEUILLET. 

AUTHOR    OF    "THE  COUNT  DE  CAMORS,"    "THE  AMOURS    OF    PHILIPPE; 
OR,  PHILIPPE'S  LOVE  AFFAIRS." 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON    THE     SEA-SHORE. 

ON  the  southern  coast  of  Finisterre,  is  a  sheltered 
bay,  on  which  stands  a  lovely  village,  which  before 
it  was  infested  b}'  artists,  gloried  in  its  pretty  women, 
in    the    most   charming  of   costumes.     Unfortunately, 

artists  found  their  way  there ;    the  women  of  F 

learned  that  they  were  effective  and  brilliant,  that  in 
short,  they  were  picturesque ;  after  which  they  began  to 
wear  their  national  costumes  with  considerable  awk- 
wardness, and  to  look  as  if  they  were  masquerading  in 
the  eoiffes  that  had  been  handed  down  from  mother  to 
daughter. 

In  the  year  1795,  the  happy  serenil     in  which  this 

(5) 


G  ON     THE     SEA-SHORE. 

little  village  basked,  was  almost  a  phenomenon,  for  up 
to  this  date,  the  Breton  insurrection  had  enlisted  few 
recruits  in  this  furthermost  point  of  the  Peninsula. 
The  Republic  was  here  little  more  than  a  name.     The 

fishermen    of    F finding   that   their   boats,    their 

wives,  and  their  homes,  were  respected,  as  well  as  their 
old  rector,  who,  in  spite  of  the  imprudence  of  his 
language  was  either  tolerated  or  ignored,  concluded  that 
the  Republic  had  forgotten  them,  and  in  their  turn 
forgot  the  Republic. 

Such  was  the  position  of  the  inhabitants  of  F 

toward  the  National  Convention,  when  on  the  12th  of 
June,  1795,  at  dawn,  this  harmony — the  quiet  of  a 
mutual  tolerance — was  inopportunely  disturbed  by 
loud  blows  upon  the  doors  of  the  most  conspicuous 
persons  in  the  village. 

Greatly  startled,  the  villagers  perceived  that  the 
Square  in  front  of  the  church,  was  crowded  with  the 
blue  uniforms  and  red  plumes  of  the  Grenadiers  of  the 
Republic.  A  detachment  of  some  fifty  men,  preceded 
by  two  mounted  officers,  had  invaded  the  village,  thus 
violating  the  rights  of  neutrals,  which  this  little  corner 
of  the  world  flattered  itself  it  had  acquired — being  as 
yet  unstained  by  any  Revolutionary  disturbance. 

The  panic  created  in  the  village,  by  this  brutal 
aggression,  yielded  by  degrees  to  the  pacific  assurances 
of  the  officers,  and  to  the  friendly  bearing  of  the 
soldiers.  Soon  the  villagers  had  no  other  anxiet} 
than  that  of  discovering  the  meaning  and  end  of  the 


ON     TITE     SEA-SnORE.  7 

expedition.  Notwithstanding  the  small  number  of 
the  soldiers,  the  rank  of  one  of  the  officers  who  wore 
the  epaulettes  of  a  Commandant,  seem  to  indicate  that 
this  military  movement  was  not  without  importance. 

In  the  rear  of  the  Republican  troops,  were  several 
saddle  horses  led  by  a  Breton  peasant  in  his  national 
garb. 

Just  as  the  good  fishermen  of  Finisterre  were  becom- 
ing wild  with  curiosity,  they  were  still  further  excited 
by  another  most  unusual  spectacle.  A  frigate,  evi- 
dently English,  suddenly  appeared  in  the  bay.  It  was 
clear  that  it  was  coming  as  near  the  shore  as  prudence 
would  permit. 

This  second  event  furnished  a  ready  explanation  of 
the  first;  the  frigate  wished  to  land  a  body  of  invaders, 
and  the  fleet,  just  arrived,  was  sent  to  prevent 
this  from  being  done.  A  mental  comparison  between 
the  forces  of  the  Republican  detachment,  and  those 
which  might  easily  be  contained  in  the  capacious 
frigate,  gave  the  inevitable  issue  of  the  contest.  This 
ingenious  discovery  was  not  made  with  entire  satisfac- 
tion, for  to  do  justice  to  the  dwellers  in  this  fishing 
town,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  colors  of  Old 
England  were  not  more  acceptable  to  them,  than  were 
those  of  the  French  Republic. 

Singularly  enough,  the  idea  awakened  in  the  minds 
of  the  fishermen,  by  the  appearance  of  the  frigate,  was 
precisely  that  entertained  by  the  soldiers  scattered  on 
the  beach.    Rough,  but  honest  and  pious  children  of 


3  ON     THE     SEA-SIIORE. 

that  Republic,  whose  heroism  was  its  daily  bread — 
accustomed  to  hearing  and  seeing  acts  of  courage — full 
of  that  patriotic  pride  from  which  are  born  great  mem- 
ories, and  noble  deeds,  these  brave  people  saw  nothing 
terrific  in  the  unequal  combat  which  they  believed  to  be 
near  at  hand. 

Five  or  six  young  soldiers,  conscious  of  their  inex- 
perience, were  asking  advice  of  a  Sergeant  with  a  fierce 
gray  moustache.  This  person  was  named  Bruidoux, 
and  he,  instead  of  answering  his  inferiors  at  once, 
thought  it  advisable  to  keep  up  his  dignity.  He  took 
from  his  hat  a  small  plaid  handkerchief,  tins  lie  laid 
with  great  care  upon  the  sand,  and  then  seated  himself 
with  imposing  majesty  on  this  modest  carpet.  Opening 
a  small  leather  bag,  he  filled  his  short  clay  pipe  in 
the  circumspect  style  of  a  man  who  knows  the  cost 
of  things.  After  passing  his  thumb  over  the  orifice 
of  the  pipe,  in  order  to  equalize  the  surface  of  this 
precious  vegetable,  Bruidoux  took  out  his  briquet^ 
and  struck  a  light  with  great  ceremony.  When  the 
lighted  pipe  was  at  last  adjusted  in  the  corner  of  his 
lips,  the  solemn  Sergeant  stretched  himself  at  full 
length  on  the  sand  —  interposing  his  two  clasped  hands, 
between  his  neck  and  the  damp  sand,  and  as  he  sent 
enormous  puffs  of  smoke  toward  the  sky,  he  said : 
"Well,  Colibri,  what  is  it  that  you  want  to  know?" 
"  Only,  Sergeant,"  answered  the  awkward,  round- 
faced  youth,  whom  Bruidoux  designated  by  the  friendly 
name  of  Colibri,  "  I  only  want  to  know,  if  you  thin*' 


ON     THE     SEA-SHORE.  y 

we  are  here  to  prevent  that  frigate  from  landing  a  lot 
of  men?  " 

"  To  this  question,"  said  Bruidoux,  "  I  think  I  inight 
possibly  find  some  fifty  answers,  but  I  will  content 
myself  with  two;  primo  —  I  think  so;  secundo  —  1 
hope  so." 

At  these  words,  which  received  from  the  lips  that 
uttered  them,  a  certain  sybilline  authority, —  the 
young  grenadiers  looked  at  each  other,  and  communi- 
cated their  secret  impressions,  by  a  nod  and  a  slight  pro- 
jection of  the  lower  lip. 

"Sergeant,"  continued  Colibri,  timidly,  "at  the 
time  you  were  fighting  in  America,  I  suppose  you  were 
obliged  to  be  on  the  sea,  somewhat?" 

"Naturally,  my  boy,  no  land  route  was  invented 
when  I  went  to  the  New  World !  And  then,  as  well  as 
to-day,  the  voyage  was  far  from  being  an  agreeable  or 
easy  one." 

"  Then,  Sergeant,  you  ought  to  know  how  many  men 
a  yessev  of  the  size  we  see  there,  can  carry." 

"  On  a  vessel  of  that  capacity,"  answered  Bruidoux, 
phlegmatically,  "I  have  seen  fifteen  hundred  men,  and 
they  could  all  have  played  the  violin,  without  having 
their  elbows  more  interfered  with,  than  a  blind  man 
on  a  public  square." 

"  Then,"  said  Colibri,  before  whose  eyes  this  state- 
ment opened  a  melancholy  perspective,  "you  think 
that  this  frigate  might  contain  a  thousand  men?" 

"  I  do  indeed,  and  with  the  greatest  ease.  What 
then,  young  man  ?  " 


10  ON     THE     SEA-SHORE. 

"There  are  only  fifty  of  us,"  answered  Colibri, 
cautiously. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Bruidoux. 

"  That  will  be  twenty  to  one,  Sergeant." 

"  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me,"  replied  the 
old  soldier,  "  what  may  be  the  name  of  that  gay  colored 
rag  I  see  floating  from  their  mast,  which  begins  to 
affect  my  eyes  disagreeably." 

"  It  is  the  English  flag,"  said  Colibri. 

"  Good !  And  would  you  also  be  amiable  enough 
to  recall  to  my  memory  the  name  and  quality  of  this 
jewel  ?  "  asked  the  Sergeant,  as  he  pointed  to  the  tri- 
color waving  in  the  breeze  above  the  stacked  bayonets. 

"  That  is  the  flag  of  the  Republic." 

"  Precisely,  citizen  Colibri.  Now,  my  boy,  remem- 
ber what  I  say;  if  ever  you  should  happen  to  find 
yourself  unexpectedly,  face  to  face  with  a  Prussian,  or 
an  English  Army,  or  with  any  Federalists,  all  you 
have  to  do  is  to  unfurl  a  banner  like  that,  and  you  will 
see  that  army  take  to  its  heels,  one  and  all,  like  a  lad  to 
whose  back  his  mother's  cook  fastens  a  dish  towel !  " 

"  But,  Sergeant,"  answered  Colibri ;  "  if  we  came 
here  to  fight,  what  are  these  saddle  horses  for,  which 
that  long-haired  peasant  leads  in  our  rear?" 

"  Those  horses,"  said  the  Sergeant,  after  a  minute 
devoted  to  reflection ;  "  are  unquestionably  intended 
for  prisoners  of  importance." 

"  Look !  "  cried  Colibri,  "  the  vessel  is  stationary." 

Sergeant  Bruidoux  raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  and 


ON     THE     SEA-SITORE.  T 

shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  examined  the  frigate 
attentively  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  am  inclined  to  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  within  an 
hour  my  children,  we  shall  see  some  hot  work." 

And  Bruidoox  shook  the  ashes  from  his  pipe ;  and 
proceeded  to  fill  it  with  as  many  tender  precautions  as 
at  first. 

"  One  thing,  Colibri,  would  be  rather  agreeable  to 
know,"  lie  said,  "and  that  is,  if  we  are  within  range  of 
their  cannon." 

As  the  sergeant  spoke  the  little  group  noticed  that 
one  of  the  boats  was  being  gradually  lowered  into  the 
water.  This  created  a  new  excitement  among  the 
fishermen  and  the  soldiers,  who  exchanged  perplexed 
glances  among  themselves,  while  the  commander  of 
the  Republican  troops,  standing  on  a  high  rock,  ex- 
amined through  a  glass,  every  movement  on  board  the 
English  ship.  This  personage,  who  was  certainly  not 
more  than  twenty-five,  wore  the  cumbrous  uniform  of 
a  Commandant,  with  an  elegance  very  unusual  at  this 
period.  The  beauty  of  his  features,  combined  with 
indefinable  signs  of  race,  would  have  assured  to  the 
young  officer  a  cordial  welcome  in  the  most  aristo 
cratic  salons,  while  the  nobility  of  his  brow  and  the 
gentle  sweetness  of  his  eyes,  contrasted  with  the  firm- 
ness of  his  mouth,  would  have  attracted  flattering 
notice  in  any  reunion  of  women.  Just  behind  this 
officer  stood  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  with  fair  hair 
and  rosy  cheeks,  in  the   uniform    of  an  aid-de-camp. 


1£  Ott    ftfE    SfiA-SHOllfi. 

This  youth  figured  as  lieutenant  on  the  staff  of  Gen- 
eral Herve,  and  had  for  several  d  lys  shared  the  command 
of  this  detachment  with  the  young  chef  de  battalion. 

"Commandant  Herve,"  cried  this  youth,  suddenly, 
as  he  noticed  the  water  gradually  rising  around  the 
rock,  which  served  as  an  observatory  to  his  superior, 
"  the  tide  is  coming  in.  The  water  will  be  half  way  up 
to  your  knees  in  a  minute  or  two  more." 

Commandant  Herve'  turned  with  a  distrait  air,  and 
looked  vaguely  at  his  little  aid-de-camp,  with  the  air  of 
a  man  who  is  not  quite  sure  that  he  is  spoken  to,  then 
returned  to  his  glass  and  his  observations.  The  youth- 
ful aid-de-camp  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"  I  tell  you,  Commandant,"  he  continued,  making  a 
trumpet  of  his  two  hands ;  "  I  tell  you  that  the  tide 
is  coming  in  very  rapidly,  and  you  will  certainly  be 
drowned — drowned,  do  you  hear  ?  " 

The  Commandant  started  like  a  man  awakened 
from  a  sound  sleep,  looked  around  with  considerable 
astonishment,  and  on  seeing  that  his  boots  were  already 
vuibmerged  to  his  ankles,  leaped  lightly  on  the  beach, 
murmuring  a  gentle  imprecation,  the  careful  wording 
of  which  indicated  the  habits  of  good  society,  for  a 
well-bred  man  differs  from  a  pedant  even  in  those  pas- 
sionate utterances  elicited  by  the  surprise  of  a  moment. 
Then  the  young  man,  shutting  up  his  spy-glass,  began 
to  walk  along  the  beach,  with  a  rapid  step,  apparently 
for  no  other  end  than  to  soothe  his  perturbed  spirit. 

The  anxious  soldiers  lost  not  one  movement  of  theix 
Chtf. 


ON     THE     SEA-SIT  ORE.  13 

*  I  am  sure,"  Colibri  ventured  to  say,  speaking  loud- 
ly enough  to  be  heard  by  Bruidoux  without  addressing 
him  directly,  "  I  am  sure  the  Commandant  regrets  not 
having  brought  the  whole  battalion." 

As  Bruidoux  continued  to  smoke  with  Oriental  placi- 
dity, Colibri  was  emboldened. 

"It  must  be,"  he  said,  "that  the  General  was  de- 
ceived in  regard  to  the  force  of  the  enemy,  otherwise 
he  would  have  come  himself  with  several  batteries." 

"  Why  not  with  the  entire  division,  his  staff  and  the 
band?"  interrupted  the  sonorous  voice  of  Sergeant 
Bruidoux.  "  Was  it  not  advisable  that  the  Republic 
itself  should  have  marched  hither,  with  all  the  sans 
culottes  of  France,  for  the  preservation  of  the  complex- 
ion of  citizen  Colibri?  The  General,  did  you  say,  you 
simpleton  ?  What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  Has  he 
taken  you  into  his  councils  ?  Do  you  know  anything 
of  the  duties  of  a  common  soldier?  By  no  means,  but 
my  eyes  are  on  you,  young  man,  and  as  you  do  not 
seem  to  be  endowed  with  any  surplus  courage,  I  wish 
to  warn  you  that  if  you  should  chance  to  feel,  when  as- 
sailed in  front,  certain  sharp  pricks  behind,  you  need 
not  be  surprised,  for  I  know  the  man  who  intends  to 
administer  them  if  necessary." 

Before  Sergeant  Bruidoux  had  time  to  read  on  the 
face  of  his  subordinate  the  effect  of  his  words,  an  ex- 
clamation from  the  group  about  him,  caused  him  to  look 
again  at  the  sea.  lie  saw  with  great  astonishment  that 
a  boat  had  left  the  frigate,  and  was  coming  swiftly 
toward  thu  shore. 


14  ON     THE     SEA-SHORE. 

"  They  have  sent  us  a  flag  of  truce,"  said  the  ser- 
geant,  "and  most  prudently,  too.  Will  you  kindly  tell 
me,  my  good,  eagle-eyed  Colibri,  what  you  can  see  in 
that  boat?" 

"  Saving  your  presence,  sir,  I  think  I  see  a  half  dozen 
petticoats." 

"  Then,"  answered  Bruidoux,  "  they  are  Scotch.  I 
know  all  the  armies  of  the  civilized  world,  and  only 
Scotchmen  wear  petticoats." 

"  Sergeant,"  asked  Colibri,  hastily,  "  do  Scotchmen 
wear  caps,  too  ?  " 

"  Caps,"  said  Bruidoux,  "  I  think  not,  you  mean  tur- 
bans, I  fancy." 

"  There  is  certainly  one  cap  among  them,  Sergeant. 
They  may  be  Scotch  women  instead  of  men." 

"Everything  is  possible,"  answered  the  Sergeant 
philosophically,  "  but  if  women  are  coming  here,  I  am 
off!" 

During  this  conversation,  Commandant  Hervd,  seated 
on  an  overturned  boat,  was  drawing  with  the  scabbard 
of  his  sword,  certain  cabalistic  figures,  while  his  eyes 
had  that  far-away  expression  indicative  of  memories  or 
hopes.  A  hand  laid  gently  on  his  shoulder  aroused 
him  from  his  reverie,  while  at  the  same  moment  a 
clear,  almost  infantile  voice  said,  behind  him: 

"  This  is  a  happy  moment  for  you,  Pelven?" 

"  Happy ! "  answered  the  young  man  smiling  half 
sadly,  "I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Francis ;  I  have  lived 
long  enough  to  knew,  that  one  is  not  safe  in  calling  a 


ON     THE     S  E  A  -  S  II  O  R  E  .  15 

moment  happy  or  unhappy,  until  it  has  quite  passed 
away." 

"  But,"  returned  Francis,  looking  at  his  friend  affec- 
tionately, *  loes  not  that  boat  bring  to  your  arms  a 
dearly  loved  sister?  Is  not  this  the  happiness  for 
which  you  have  been  sighing  for  the  last  two  years  ?  " 

"  If  I  only  knew,"  answered  Pelven,  "  that  I  was  to 
find  in  her  the  sister  whom  I  remember,  and  for  whom 
I  am  hoping.  She  has  lived  so  long  amid  our  enemies ! 
She  has  learned  from  all  around  her,  to  hate  the  very 
uniform  I  wear." 

"  No,  no ! "  cried  the  young  aide-de-camp  with  an 
eagerness  that  covered  his  brow  with  a  vivid  color,  "it 
is  only  necessary  to  look  at  her  letters,  Herv6,  which 
you  have  allowed  me  to  read,  to  feel  that  such  a  suspi- 
cion is  unworthy  of  her." 

"  And  then,  too,"  continued  Hervd,  smiling  at  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  youth,  "  my  sister  is  not  coming 
alone.  She  is  accompanied  by  several  persons,  who  1 
am  very  sure,  have  no  love  for  me,  and  you  can  easily 
understand,  Francis,  that  it  must  be  to  me,  excessively 
painful,  to  see  only  hostility  and  coldness  on  faces  once 
friendly  and  familiar." 

*'  If  it  would  not  be  indiscreet,  Commandant  Herve*, 
I  shoull  like  to  ask  the  number  of  ladies  in  that 
boat?" 

"  In  a  time  when  politeness  is  the  rarest  of  jewels, 
Lieutenant  Francis,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  refuse  to 
satisfy  a  curiosity,  expressed  with  such  punctiliousness. 


10  0  N     T  II  E     SEA-SI10ftft. 

T  shall  say  inching  of  Mademoiselle  And  red  de  Pelven, 
ii iv  sister,  of  whom  I  have  already  said  too  much,  I 
fancy." 

Francis  colored  again. 

"But,"  continued  the  Commandant,  "you  have 
kindly  forgiven  the  weakness  of  a  brother.  Beside 
this  young  lady,  the  boat  you  see  a  half  league  off,  is 
honored  by  bringing  to  our  shore  Madame  Eldnore  de 
Kergant,  formerly  a  Canoness;  she  is  sister  to  the 
Marquis  de  Kergant,  my  guardian,  and  is  the  bitterest  of 
enemies  to  the  French  Republic,  and  the  warmest  friend 
to  etiquette  and  savoir  vivre.  Behind  this  lady,  at  a 
respectful  distance,  you  will  see  a  young  Bretonne  who 
promises  to  be  one  of  the  loveliest  creatures  by  whom 
the  eyes  of  man  were  ever  charmed.  Her  name  is  Alix, 
and  she  is  the  daughter  of  Citizen  Kado  —  that  tall  Bre- 
ton guide  who  leads  the  horses :  look  at  him  now !  notice 
his  long  hair,  his  broad  brimmed  hat  and  full  breeches, 
his  coat  a  la  Louis  XIV.  —  you  will  see  that  he  has  an 
immense  amount  of  beauty,  and  this  beauty  will  give 
you  an  idea  of  that  which  characterizes  his  daughter. 
She  has  been  brought  up  at  the  chateau,  and  lives 
there  in  a  double  position,  she  is  not  a  demoiselle,  nor 
yet  is  she  a  'femme  de  chambre.  Her  hands  are  white^ 
and  Alix  can  read  and  write.  At  a  still  greater  and 
more  respectful  distance  you  will  see  a  waiting-maid. 
She  is  English  or  possibly  Scotch,  as  her  name  is 
MacGregor,  and  numbers  among  her  ancestors  the 
chiefs   of  the   clan,   but   has    been    reduced    by    mis- 


ON     THE     SEA-SllOUE.  1? 

fortune  after  misfortune,  to  this  subordinate  position 
As  the  Canoness  has  only  recently  taken  her  iiitn  her 
service,  I  have  never  seen  her,  but  if  you  want  her 
portrait  I  can  give  it  to  you.  She  is  tall,  awkward, 
and  red-haired,  and  takes  snuff  secretly !  Are  you 
satisfied,  Francis  ?  " 

"Not  yet,  Commandant;  for  if  my  eyes  do  not 
deceive  me,  there  are  five  women  in  the  boat,  and  you 
have  described  but  four." 

"Ah!  yes,  to  be  sure,"  answered  Herve*  de  Pelven, 
with  an  embarrassment  which  was  not  lost  to  his 
friend ;  "  there  is,  or  ought  to  be,  for  I  cannot  see  at 
this  distance,  a  certain  Mademoiselle  Bellah  de  Kergant, 
daughter  of  the  Marquis,  and  niece  of  the  Canoness. 
This  name  of  Bellah  has  been  in  the  family  for  a  cen- 
tury or  more." 

" And  is  that  all  you  have  to  say?"  cried  Francis, 
"  not  a  word  of  praise,  no  epigram  ?  Do  you  wish  me  to 
believe  that  the  young  lady  is  deformed,  or  is  she  so 
absolutely  perfect,  that  your  pencil  does  not  venture  to 
draw  her  portrait  for  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  delicate  matter  to  attempt  a  description  of 
our  enemies,"  said  Herve\  "and  I  regret  that  I  am 
compelled  to  include  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  airong 
the  most  ardent  adversaries  of  the  cause  which  J  sus- 
tain. She  is  my  sister's  friend — for  years  she  regarded 
me  as  a  brother,  but  of  late  she  looks  on  me  as  a  wretch, 
stained  with  the  blood  of  his  King,  soiled  by  the  dust 
of  all  broken  and  ruined  relics." 
9. 


18  ON     THE     SEA-SHORE. 

A  moment  of  silence  followed  these  words  uttervi 
by  the  Commandant,  in  a  voice  vibrating  with  emotion* 
then  he  resumed : 

"  You  will  see  her,  Francis,  and  }tou  shall  tell  me  f 
ever  a  painter  put  upon  canvas,  a  diviner  face,  one  of 
more  virginal  purity,  or  one  more  clearly  suggesting  a 
martyr's  soul." 

Herve  again  interrupted  himself,  and  it  was  not  until 
after  he  had  turned  away  to  conceal  the  workings  of 
his  face,  that  he  added: 

"  It  is  a  hard  struggle  sometimes,  Francis,  when  the 
beliefs  and  the  duties  of  the  man,  are  ranged  against 
the  dearest  sentiments  of  his  youth." 

The  young  Commandant,  as  he  finished  these  words, 
took  a  few  hurried  turns  on  the  beach,  while  the  Lieu- 
tenant stood  motionless  on  the  spot  where  he  had 
received  this  semi-confidence,  with  misty  eyes  and  his 
brow  covered  by  a  heavy  cloud,  foreign  to  the  natural 
gayety  of  his  face. 

We  will  take  advantage  of  the  brief  interval  which 
still  separated  the  English  boat  from  the  shore,  to 
complete  as  briefly  as  possible,  an  explanation  unfor- 
tunately indispensable  to  the  humblest  recitals. 

Herve*  and  his  sister,  orphans  from  their  Earliest 
youth,  had  been  bequeathed  to  the  guardianship  of  the 
Marquis  de  Kergant,  the  old  friend  of  their  father,  the 
Comte  de  Pelven.  The  Marquis  had  fulfilled,  consci- 
entiously and  delicately,  the  promise  he  had  made  by 
the  side  of  a  dying  bed.     The  two  sad  children  had 


ON     THE     SEA-SIIORE.  i« 

found  a  home  under  the  roof  of  the  loyal  gentleman, 
and  a  place  at  the  side  of  Bellah,  his  only  child ;  and 
had  shared  with  her,  all  the  advantages  of  a  most  caie- 
ful  education.  When  he  had  attained  his  seventeenth 
year,  Herve*  was  sent  to  a  school  in  Paris,  which  lie  left 
only  to  enter  the  military  establishment  of  Brienne. 
At  the  close  of  each  summer,  the  young  man  went 
to  the  chateau,  where  he  spent  several  weeks, 
but  while  he  went  away,  each  year,  with  the  same 
grateful  respect  and  veneration  for  his  guardian,  and 
with  the  same  love  for  the  two  charming  sisters,  who 
welcomed  him  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  he  had  felt  that 
new  ideas  and  opinions,  were  fast  taking  the  place  of 
the  principles  with  which  his  childhood  had  been  nour- 
ished. The  day  that  the  Marquis  learned  the  fatal 
result  of  the  journey  of  King  Louis  XVI.  to  Varennes, 
he  instantly  foresaw  the  desperate  efforts  by  which  the 
Breton  noblesse  would  demonstrate  their  devotion  to 
their  faith,  and  suddenly  recalled  his  ward.  Hervd 
obeyed  the  summons  and  repaired  to  Kergant.  He 
lived  there  several  months  in  great  distress  of  mind, 
divided  between  the  powerful  claims  of  his  heart  and 
the  deep  convictions  of  his  mind.  Then  he  took  his 
resolution  and  secretly  departed  for  Paris.  A  little 
later,  Monsieur  de  Kergant  learned  by  a  respectful 
letter,  that  the  son  of  the  Comte  de  Pelven,  was  serving 
as  a  volunteer  in  the  army  of  the  Republic. 

From  that  day,  although  Mademoiselle  de  Pelven 
felt  that  the  manner  of  her  guardian   toward  herseli 


20  ON    THE     SEA-SHORE. 

was  more  kind  and  thoughtful  than  ever,  she  never 
dared  utter  her  brother's  name,  preferring  that  it 
should  be  forgotten,  rather  than  insulted.  The  other 
inhabitants  of  the  Chateau  observed  the  same  reserve, 
thus  demonstrating  their  detestation  of  the  part  taken 
by  Herve*,  although  this  sentiment  was  graduated  and 
influenced  by  the  ideas  and  character  of  each.  The 
Marquis  regarded  the  son  of  his  old  friend,  as  a  rene- 
gade and  a  felon — a  traitor  to  God  and  to  the  King — 
who  merited  forgiveness  neither  in  this  world,  nor  the 
next.  Madame  de  Kergant,  the  Canoness,  pictured  to 
herself  her  brother's  young  ward,  bearing  a  head  on  a 
pike,  she  saw  him  hanging  without  ceremony,  trouble- 
some Royalists  to  the  lamp  posts.  Bellah  regarded  him 
as  a  man  born  with  the  noblest  qualities,  who  had 
yielded  to  temptation  and  drifted  into  crime ;  she  felt 
such  horror  at  this  desertion  and  desecration  of  all  her 
domestic  altars,  that  never  once  did  the  proud  child 
either  dare,  or  wish,  to  mingle  the  name  of  the  traitor  in 
the  most  sacred  murmurs  of  her  prayers.  Perhaps  she 
hoped  in  her  heart,  that  a  merciful  God  would  conde- 
scend to  read  this  proscribed  name  in  her  sad  and  tearful 
eyes,  which  she  raised  to  Heaven  as  she  knelt.  Herv6 
de  Pelven  arrived  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder,'  at  the 
army  of  the  Moselle,  just  as  General  Hoche  took  the  com- 
mand. A  gallant  act  of  Herve's  promoted  him  almost 
immediately  to  the  rank  of  Sergeant.  Later,  at  Wissem- 
bourg,  when  his  battalion  fell  back  in  disorder  before 
the  formidable  artillery  of  an  Austrian  redoubt,  he 


OK    fHE     SiA-SHOllE.  41 

threw  himself  alone  upon  the  fascines  with  the  tri-eolor 
in  his  hand,  and  stood  there  for  a  minute  under  the 
fusillade.  The  Republicans,  animated  by  his  audacity, 
were  carried  away  by  his  example,  and  bore  his  dying 
body  from  among  the  corpses  of  his  enemies.  The 
General-in-Chief,  a  personal  witness  of  Herve°s  gal- 
lantry, wished  the  brave  youth  to  take  command  of 
the  battalion  which  he  had  saved,  and  made  illustrious ; 
but  Herv<3  had  not  risen  from  his  bed  of  suffering  to 
which  his  wounds  had  consigned  him,  when  General 
Hoche  passed  from  his  camp  of  victory  to  prison. 
Herve*  lost  more  than  a  protector ;  the  affection  which 
Hoche  had  shown  him,  his  disregard  of  the  difference 
in  their  rank  as  well  as  their  age,  gave  him  a  right 
to  regret  a  friend,  in  the  chief  who  had  been  carried 
away. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Pelven  learned  by  a  letter 
from  London,  that  his  sister  Andrei,  Mademoiselle 
Bellah  de  Kergant,  and  the  Canoness,  had  emigrated  to 
England,  by  order  of  the  Marquis,  but  of  the  Marquis 
himself,  Andrew's  letter  made  no  mention.  Herve*  had 
a  painful  explanation  of  this  silence  somewhat  later, 
when  he  found  the  name  of  Monsieur  de  Kergant 
among  those  of  the  Royalists  who  made,  in  the  west, 
so  redoubtable  a  diversion.  From  that  time  the  young 
officer  received  at  intervals,  letters  from  his  sister ;  this 
mysterious  correspondence  weakened  the  confidence 
that  the  converted  Aristocrat  had  first  aroused  in  the 
Republican  army.     Notwithstanding  the  high  military 


%%  ON    THE     SfeA-SilORlL 

qualities  lie  continued  to  display,  the  vague  suspicions 
which  hung  about  him,  retained  him  in  the  rank  to 
which  he  had  been  first  elevated,  a  rank  which  in  those 
days  of  rapid  fortunes,  seemed  unworthy  of  a  young 
man  of  courage  and  merit.  The  ennui  of  this  doubtful 
position  threw  a  still  heavier  shadow  over  Herve"  s 
character — he  became  a  prey  to  the  most  invincible 
melancholy.  The  enthusiasm  which  had  inspired  and 
sustained  his  generous  resolution,  had  passed  away 
when  the  sacrifice  was  once  accomplished,  and  there 
remained  to  Herve*,  only  the  calm  support  of  an  ele- 
vated and  firm  conviction.  Hei-ve*  realised  the  value 
of  his  sacrifice,  only  after  its  consummation.  Then 
only  did  his  sentiments,  free  from  the  tumult  of  his 
irresolution,  appear  in  all  their  sincerity.  He  recalled 
the  impression,  made  by  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  and 
understood  her  character  well  enough,  to  entertain  no 
doubt  as  to  the  manner  in  which  she  looked  upon  his 
conduct ;  besides  Andrei's  letters  told  him  the  truth. 
Not  only  did  Bellah  add  no  word  of  polite  remembrance 
to  her  friend's  letters,  written  to  the  man  on  whom  she 
had  looked  for  years  as  on  a  brother,  but  it  was  evident 
that  Andree  herself,  was  hampered  by  inflexible  prohi- 
bitions. This  inference  Herve*  drew  from  the  reticence 
of  the  invariable  postcript,  "Bellah  is  well."  Once, 
only,  did  Andree  dare  to  exceed  the  limits  of  this  cruel 
bulletin,  and  added — "  She  is  beautiful  as  an  angel." 
It  would  be  difficult  to  sa}r,  why  this  feminine  phrase 
irritated  Herve  as  it  did,  but  at  all  events  it  was  at 


ON     THE     SEA-SHORE.  23 

this  time,  that  he  began  to  fancy  that  the  strong  senti- 
ment which  the  thought  of  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant 
awoke  in  his  heart,  was  absolute  hatred. 

The  9th  Thermidor  restored  General  Hoche  to  his 
country.  A  little  later  he  was  called  to  the  command 
at  Brest,  and  recruited  his  forces  from  the  corps 
detached  from  the  army  of  the  North.  The  sixteenth 
demi  brigade  in  which  Pelven  served  was  the  first  of 
which  Hoche  took  possession.  Herv^  found  the  ycung 
man  whom  we  know  under  the  name  of  Francis, 
regarded  with  great  favor  by  the  General.  The  mother 
of  this  youth  had  been  in  prison  with  the  General,  and 
had,  before  appearing  before  the  terrible  tribunal  from 
which  she  never  returned,  commended  her  son  to  the 
Republican  General.  It  may  be,  that  he  was  actuated 
by  a  pious  reverence  for  the  wishes  of  a  dying  mother, 
or  even  that  he  was  actuated  by  a  tenderer  sentiment, 
at  all  events  the  truth  remains  the  same,  that  the 
General  felt  for  this  youth  the  warmest  affection. 

One  winter's  day  in  the  year  1794,  Hoche,  coming 
up  to  headquarters  with  three  battalions,  was  attacked 
on  the  shores  of  the  Vilaine  by  Stofflet's  command. 
From  a  small  eminence,  where  he  stood  during  the 
combat,  he  suddenly  saw  his  young  aid-de-camp  borne 
away  almost  from  his  very  side,  by  five  or  six  partisans. 
At  the  same  moment  a  Republican  officer,  dashed  for- 
ward with  his  reins  in  his  teeth,  making  his  way 
through  the  group  about  the  brave  boy:  snatching  the 
prisoner  by  the  collar  of  his  coat,  he  drew  him  on  to  his 
saddle*  and  bore  this  living  trophy  to  the  foot  of  the 


24  ON     THE     SEA- SHORE. 

.iil],  amid  the  unbounded  applause  of  the  whole  staff. 
By  this  chivalric  deed,  Herve*  had  strengthened  the 
friendly  interest  which  Hoche  already  felt  in  hini, 
while  Francis  conceived  for  his  preserver  a  passionate 
and  enthusiastic  enthusiasm. 

•  Some  weeks  later,  the  first  truce  of  La  Vendee*  and 
Brittany  was  signed.  Herv^  then  received  a  letter 
from  his  sister,  who  begged  him  to  obtain  permission 
for  herself  and  her  companions  in  exile,  to  return  to 
France.  She  asked  in  addition  that  an  escort  of 
Republican  soldiers  should  protect  them  as  far  as 
Kergant,  against  the  Chouans,  who  were  opposed  to 
the  present  truce,  and  would  take  pleasure  in  avenging 
on  them,  the  part  which  the  Marquis  had  taken  in  this 
happy  result.  Notwithstanding  the  slight  importance 
which  he  attached  to  this  incomplete  peace,  Hoche  saw 
no  reason  for  supposing,  that  the  appearance  of  two  or 
three  women  could  increase  the  dangers  which  Brittany 
was  preparing  for  the  Republic.  The  9th  of  Ther- 
midor  had  opened  an  era  of  clemency  following  the 
regime  of  terror.  The  Marquis  de  Kergant  was  among 
the  Royalist  chiefs  pardoned  by  this  amnesty,  and 
Hoche  did  not  hesitate  to  make  this  innocent  ponces 
sion  to  a  man  to  whom  he  was  personally  a  debtor, 
and  whose  character  had  inspired  him  with  absolute 
confidence. 

The  reader  now  understands  what  had  brought  to 
the  coast  of  Finisterre,  the  detachment  of  Republican 
soldiers  whom  we  have  been  leaving  to  their  own  devi- 
ces altogether  too  long. 


ON     THE     SEA-SHORE.  25 

The  English  boat  touched  the  slore,  coming  in  on 
the  waves  to  a  tiny  sheltered  bay  among  the  rocks. 
Herve^  and  Francis  hurried  forward  to  assist  :n  the 
embarkation,  while  the  soldiers  with  manifest  curiosity 
stood  a  little  in  the  rear,  Sergeant  Bruidoux  alone 
was  unmoved,  he  lay  on  his  back  at  some  distance, 
protesting,  by  the  lazy  disdain  of  his  position,  against 
the  scene  which  threatened  to  give  the  lie  to  his  pro- 
phetic science. 

When  the  boat  was  but  a  few  feet  from  the  shore, 
the  rowers  lifted  their  oars  suddenly,  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  young  midshipman  in  command,  stood  on 
one  of  the  seats,  and  with  a  profound  bow,  said  to 
Ilerve,  who  carried  his  hand  to  his  cap  with  punctil- 
ious courtesy :  "If  you,  sir,  are  the  person  whom  I 
suppose,  you  will  not  blame  me  if  I  ask  your  creden- 
tials, before  I  confide  to  your  hands  the  sacred  care 
with  which  I  have  been  entrusted. 

"But,  sir,"  said  a  woman's  voice  eagerly,  "it  is  my 
brother !    I  assure  you,  it  is  my  brother !  " 

Henre*  waved  his  hand  gayly  toward  the  beautiful 
creature  who  had  just  spoken,  then  taking  a  paper  from 
his  pocket,  stuck  it  on  the  point  of  his  sword,  and  pre- 
sented it  to  the  Midshipman,  who  at  once  proceeded  to 
read  it  aloud. 

"  In  virtue  of  the  powers  with  which  I  have  been 
empowered  by  the  Convention  Nationale,  I  give 
authority  to  enter  and  sojourn  on  the  territory  of 
the  Republic,  to  the  citoyennv^  Eleonore  Kergant, 
formerly  a  Canoness,  to  Bellah  Kergant,  and  Andre? 


26  ON     THE     SEA-SHORE. 

Pelven,  minors,  accompanied  by  the  citoyennes  Alix 
Kado,  and  MacGregor,  their  personal  servants." 

This  paper  was  signed  by  General  Hoche. 

Madame  Elenore  listened  to  the  reading  of  this 
paper,  with  many  eloquent  shrugs  of  the  shoulders, 
which  having  finished,  the  Midshipman  folded  and 
presented  to  the  old  lady,  and  the  boat  was  moored  by 
the  rocks.  The  Canoness  was  the  first  to  step  on  shore, 
and  then  quickly  turning,  offered  her  hand  in  turn  to 
each  of  her  companions  in  exile.  It  might  have  been 
chance,  or  it  might  have  been  premeditated  cruelty  on 
the  part  of  Madame  de  Kergant,  at  all  events  it  was 
An  dree*  who  was  the  last  to  land. 

"  My  brother !  "  she  cried,  as  she  leaped  into  Herve*'s 
arms  with  the  tears  streaming  down  her  fair  cheeks,  "I 
see  yow  at  last !  Ah !  Heavens,  what  bliss  !  You  look 
just  as  you  did  when  we  parted !  Is  it  not  strange, 
Bellah  ?     I  really  expected  to  see  his  hair  gray  !  " 

"  But,  dear  child,"  remonstrated  Herve\  with  a  laugh, 
"  it  is  only  two  years  since  we  saw  each  other." 

"Only!"  repeated  Andree*,  "but  I  call  two  years  a 
very  long  time! " 

"  Far  too  long,  I  admit,  but  hardly  enough  for 
a  man  to  become  decrepid  !  " 

"So  much  the  better,  then,"  answered  Andree*,  with 
a  charming  little  grimace,  as  with  a  delighted  rippling 
laugh,  she  threw  her  arms  once  more  around  her 
brother's  neck,  and  took  his  arm  to  walk  to  the 
village.     The  Canoness  had  promptly  claimed  Bellah's 


support,  fearing,  apparently,  that  the  Republican  officer 
would  have  the  audacity  to  offer  his. 

The  Breton  guide  was  seated  upon  a  turned-over 
boat,  holding  his  daugliier's  hands  in  his,  and  talking 
to  her  in  the  patois  01  his  ancestors.  The  somewhat 
Jewish  character  of  the  girl's  beauty,  was  heightened 
by  the  elegance  of  her  national  costume.  Her  noble, 
regular  features,  illuminated  by  superb  black  eyes, 
were  framed  by  a  Bretonne  coiffe,  the  white  wings 
of  which  were  fastened  to  the  top  of  her  head. 
Nothing  in  the  attitude  of  Alix,  or  in  her  way  of 
moving,  indicated  that  embarrassment  which  often 
makes  the  movements  of  women  in  her  position  in 
life,  so  excessively  awkward. 

Herve*  could  not  refrain  from  admiring  the  splendor, 
with  which  the  humblest  of  his  companions  had  kept 
the  promise  of  her  youth,  but  her  beauty  bore  no  com- 
parison to  that  of  Bellah,  which,  nearly  of  the  same 
type,  was  elevated  by  intellectual  culture.  She  had 
the  same  dignity,  with  even  greater  distinction  and  ease 
of  bearing.  Bellah  was,  so  to  speak,  the  second  effort 
of  a  sculptor,  finished  with  more  care  than  his  first,  and 
striving  after  perfection. 

While  Commandant  Herve*  continued  to  walk  along 
the  shore,  listening  with  intense  delight  to  the  voice  of 
his  young  sister,  which  brought  with  it,  the  memory  of 
so  many  vanished  joys,  the  young  a  d-de-camp  departed 
with  slow,  reluctant  steps,  his  heart  filled  with  that 
sadness  inspired  by  some  family  fete,  in  which  we  have 
uo  part  or  DarceL 


28  ©fcOflfLY    SI3HTS. 

CHAPTER    II. 

GHOSTLY    SIGHTS. 

AT  the  order  of  their  Commandant  the  soldiers  had 
promptly  fallen  into  line.  The  women  mounted 
the  horses  standing  ready  for  them,  and  took  their 
places  in  the  centre  of  the  detachment,  which  left  the 
village  preceded  by  the  guide  Kado.  Herve*  following 
the  directions  of  the  General,  was  to  avoid  all  inhab- 
ited places,  and  the  small  band  soon  found  themselves 
following  their  tall  guide  over  marshy  meadows,  or  arid 
moors.  Herve*,  leaving  his  sister  with  regret,  turned 
his  horse  toward  that  of  the  young  aide-de-camp  at 
the  head  of  the  detachment. 

"  Well,  Francis,"  he  said,  "  did  I  draw  too  vivid  a 
picture  of  this  first  interview  ?  And  now  that  you  have 
seen  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  with  your  own  eyes, 
what  do  you  think  of  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  very  pleasant-looking,  Commandant." 

"  Pleasant-looking,  lieutenant  Francis  ?  You  are 
certainly  very  cautious  in  your  way  of  expressing 
yourself,  and,  pray,  do  you  call  the  reception  she 
accorded  to  me,  pleasant  also  ?  " 

"I  cannot  call  it  anything,  for  upon  my  word  I  did 
not  see  her  speak  to  you;  but  your  sister,  Pelven — 
your  charming  sister " 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  29 

"  My  charming  sister,"  interrupted  Pelven,  a  little 
out  of  temper,  "  does  not  need  to  be  defended,  since 
she  has  not,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  been  attacked." 

Francis  did  not  reply,  but  looked  at  Hervd,  with  an 
expression  of  surprise  and  reproach,  which  calmed  the 
young  man's  excitement. 

"  Why  the  deuce,"  said  Herve*  with  a  laugh,  "  do 
you  insist  on  talking  of  Andree*,  when  I  speak  of  Bel- 
lah  ?  Admit,  can't  you,  that  the  beauty  of  Mademoi- 
selle de  Kergant  is  almost  startling." 

"  Startling  is  a  very  good  word,"  said  Francis.  "  I 
picked  up  her  whip  a  minute  ago,  and  when  she  thanked 
me,  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  me  so  steadily  that  I  assure 
you  I  turned  cold,  and  shivered  from  head  to  foot.  I 
wished  to  utter  some  polite  common-place,  but  could 
find  nothing  to  say.  My  words  resolved  themselves 
into  a  little  gasp,  and  I  assure  you  I  am  indignant  with 
her  for  affecting  me  in  such  a  way.  Her  beauty  is  won 
derful  indeed,  but  it  astonishes  more  than  it  touches. 
How  great  is  the  difference  now  between  her  and " 

"And  the  Canoness,"  interrupted  Herve\  "Yes,  to 
be  sure ;  the  difference  is  indeed  very  remarkable.  I 
congratulate  you  on  having  discovered  it  at  this  early 
date." 

As  the  young  man  talked,  they  had  ridden  a  little  in 
advance  of  the  escort,  which  at  this  moment  was 
climbing  a  hill.  The  landscape  directly  before  them, 
consisted  of  steep  gullies  through  which  ran  swift  tor- 
rents.    The  bright  uniforms  winding  among  the  rockn 


30  GHOSTLY    SIGHTS. 

—the  graceful  feminine  cavalcade  with  vails  and  white 
plumes  floating  in  the  wind — all  this  life  and  movement 
in  this  wild,  deserted  spot,  presented  a  scene  of  pictu- 
resque interest  to  the  two  officers,  as  they  turned  *n 
their  saddles  and  looked  back. 

"  Look,  Pelven,"  cried  Francis,  "  don't  you  feel  lik*. 
an  enchanter,  carrying  off  into  captivity  a  queen 
dowager,  and  a  bevy  of  princesses?" 

"  I  am  more  enchanted  than  enchanter,"  answered 
Herve*.  "  I  must  confess,  Francis,  that  I  don't  like  this 
wild  spot.  I  have  precious  little  confidence  in  our 
guide,  he  is  after  his  own  fashion,  and,  according  to  his 
light,  a  very  honest  man,  but  as  much  of  a  Royalist  as 
the  Royal  tiger  himself.  I  beg  you  to  watch  him. 
Look,  now — what  is  he  doing  at  this  very  moment  ?  " 

The  guide  was  following  along  the  edge  of  the  hill, 
and  stopped  every  few  moments  to  push  off  with  his 
foot  stone  after  stone,  which  rolled  down  into  the 
terrible  abyss  of  the  valley  below. 

"But,"  said  Francis,  "it  seems  to  me  that  citoyen 
Kado  is  amusing  himself  in  the  most  innocent  fashion." 

"  The  apparent  innocence  of  the  amusement  strikes 
me  as  being  suspicious,"  answered  Herve\  "  A  man 
with  so  grave  a  face,  and  whose  manners  are  so  solemn, 
does  not  often  indulge  in  suck  puerile  plays.  Watch 
him — he  is  listening,  and  now  he  is  leaning  over  the 
precipice." 

"  That  is  all  right  enough,  surely.  He  is  listening 
to  the  stones  as  they  bound  from  rock  tc  rock.     It 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  31 

seems  to  me  that  this  uncultivated  savage  has  simple 
tastes,  and — " 

"  Hark !  "  interrupted  Herve\  "  Did  you  hear  that  ?  " 
^     "Hear  what?" 

44  There  was  a  whistle,  anl  I  saw  the  guide  exchange 
a  look  with  the  Canoness." 

"  Yes,  I  did  hear  a  whistle ;  or  it  might  have  been 
the  wind  through  that  group  of  trees.  As  for  the  ex- 
change of  glances,  between  that  courtly  dame  and  this 
savage,  I  must  confess  with  regret,  that  it  escaped  my 
observation.  But,  really,  Commandant,  I  do  not  share 
your  apprehensions.  Are  we  not  protected  by  the 
presence  of  your  sister?  Does  not  she  preclude  the 
possibility  of  any  plot,  in  which  her  brother  would 
necessarily  fall  the  first  victim  ?  " 

"  She  might  not  know  anything  of  it ;  and  as  I  look 
again  at  that  powdered  head  of  the  Canoness,  I  am  con- 
vinced that  no  sanguinary  idea  ever  found  birth  in  it ! 
Your  opinion,  my  dear  fellow,  is  not  worth  much  on 
that  point.  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  has  dabbled  in 
politics  during  her  sojourn  in  England,  nor  should  I  be 
in  the  least  surprised,  were  I  to  discover,  that  she  has 
had  constant  communication  with  Pitt." 

"  Then  I  can  only  say  that  I  am  uncommonly  sorry 
for  Pitt!"  answered  Francis. 

"  Precisely  !  but  among  the  ideas  within  that  restless 
brain,  what  should  you  say  if  something  like  this 
had  formed  itself  there  to  draw  this  escort  of  the 
Commandant  into  some  snare,  and  then  fix  on  him  a 


32  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

suspicion  of  complicity  which  would  so  hopelessly 
compromise  him  in  the  eyes  of  the  Republic,  that  he 
would  find  himself,  4bon  gr6  mal  gre" ',  involved  with 
the  Royalists." 

"Hum!  Hum ! "  murmured  Francis.  "You  have 
presented  a  specious  argument,  but  after  all  they  could 
hardly  expect,  knowing  Commandant  Herve*  as  they 
do,  to  carry  out  such  a  plan." 

"  But  passion  and  prejudice  could  blind  them  to  such 
a  point,  that  they  might  try  to  do  me  this  injury.  But 
after  all,  these  notions  of  mine  may  bo  the  merest 
nonsense,  and  I  only  wish  to  remind  you,  that  we  are, 
after  all,  in  an  enemy's  country,  and  that  it  is  advisable 
to  keep  our  eyes  open." 

"  Be  easy,  Commandant,  I  will  watch  the  guide,  the 
queen  mother,  and " 

"  My  charming  sister  ?  "  asked  Herve*  in  a  low  voice. 

"No,  Monsieur  Pelven ;  no.  I  would  as  soon  sus- 
pect a  marble  statue  of  innocence.  I  meant  to  say 
that  I  would  watch  that  beautiful  savage,  the  daughter 
of  the  guard." 

Andree*,  now  coming  up  to  join  her  brother,  put  an 
end  to  the  conversation  between  these  two  young  men. 
it  was  now  midday.  The  caravan  was  following 
a  path,  on  either  side  of  which,  extended  a  desolate 
plain  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Clumps  of  tall 
broom,  of  the  height  of  a  man,  broke  the  monotony  of 
this  Breton  desert;  here  and  there  lay  huge  granite 
boulders  covered  with  black  lichens.     In  the  centre  of 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  33 

the  plain  was  a  cluster  of  huts,  but  this  indication  of 
the  presence  of  man,  had  nothing  reassuring  to  the 
travelers,  and  only  seemed  to  add  to  the  desolation 
.and  impart  an  additional  element  of  fear. 

The  caravan  halted  for  a  half  hour  in  this  sad  oasis. 
Before  the  door  of  the  hut  nearest  the  road,  was  seated 
a  young  man,  haggard,  wild-eyed  and  in  rags.  He 
held  up  one  hand  and  then  the  other,  to  the  sunshine 
with  an  air  of  stupid  enjoyment. 

"  It  is  my  poor  boy  who  has  been  afflicted  by  the 
hon  Dieu"  said  an  old  woman  coming  out  of  the  hut 
as  Herve*  approached.  The  young  officer  placed  a  piece 
of  silver  in  her  hand  and  quickly  departed  from  this 
afflicting  spectacle,  but  turning  around  some  minutes 
later,  he  was  surprised  to  see  the  poor  idiot  engaged  in 
an  animated  conversation  with  the  guide  :  he  extended 
his  arm  towards  the  north,  and  was  speaking  with 
extreme  volubility.  Seeing  that  Herve  was  watching 
him,  he  relapsed  suddenly  into  his  former  attitude. 

"  It  is  a  great  pity,  sir,  isn't  it  ? "  asked  Kado  as 
he  passed  the  young  officer,  who  made  no  reply,  but 
distrusting  such  an  intelligent  idiot,  took  care  that  no 
further  communication  should  take  place  between  the 
guide  and  himself. 

The  march  was  speedily  resumed,  and  the  hours 
passed  on  without  any  new  incident  taking  place, 
which  could  confirm  or  strengthen  Pelven'^  suspicions. 

The  sun  was  setting,  and  Francis,  yielding  to  the 
peculiar  charm  of  the  hour,  began  to  sing  a  little 
8 


34  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

impromptu  ballad,  in  imitation  of  those  of  the  days  of 
chivalry,  where  each  person  of  the  party  was  men- 
tioned, Hei've*  laughed  heartily  at  this  improvised 
epic,  and  at  the  character  —  at  once  heroic  and 
burlesque — with  which  he  was  himself  invested. 

Stopping,  however,  suddenly,  as  he  reached  the 
daughter  of  the  MacGregor — as  he  called  the  Scotch- 
woman— he  said : 

"  Do  you  know  that  she  seems  to  me  the  most 
discreet  and  quiet  of  Scotchwomen  and  maids !  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  Commandant,  that  I  see  no  resemblance 
to  the  caricature  with  which  you  favored  me,  as  her 
portrait." 

"  I  told  you,  Francis,  if  you  will  remember,  that  I 
had  never  seen  her ;  and  if   she  continues  to    travel 
vith  her  vail  as  closely  drawn  as  now,  it  looks  to  me  as 
f  that  pleasure  would  never  be  mine." 

"I  have  been  more  fortunate,"  answered  Francis,  a 
treacherous  gust  of  wind,  showed  me  a  lovely  oval  face 
and  a  double  row  of  pearly  teeth — as  to  her  figure  and 
the  delicacy  of  her  hands,  you  are  as  good  a  judge  as 
myself." 

A  few  rods  behind  the  two  young  officers  Sergeant 
Bruidoux  was,  by  way  of  enlivening  the  march,  hold 
ing  forth  to  Colibri. 

"  There  are,"  he  said,  "  women  of  all  kinds — some 
who  are  too  *stout,  and  others  who  are  as  thin  as  the 
scabbard  of  my  sword.  There  are  some  who  are  fair, 
and  some  again  who  are  dark.     There  are  some  who 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  35 

have  modesty  and  some  who  have  none ;  and  let  me 
tell  you  for  your  benefit,  Colibri,  that  those  who  have 
the  most,  are  very  often  those  who  have  the  least." 

This  somewhat  contradictory  statement,  made  to 
astonish  Colibri,  produced  the  desired  effect.  He 
promptly  asked  how  that  could  be. 

11  Suppose,"  said  the  Sergeant,  loftily,  "  that  you 
should  chance  to  meet  a  woman  in  a  wood  who  was 
totally  naked,  what  would  you  think  of  her  ?  " 

This  extraordinary  question  brought  a  vivid  blush 
to  Colibri's  ingenuous  countenance.  He  hesitated,  and 
said  shamefacedly : 

"  Bless  me,  Sergeant,  I  don't  know  !  I  should  think 
— I  suppose.     Did  you  say  in  a  wood,  Sergeant  ?  " 

44  Yes,  in  a  wood.  What  would  you  think  of  her,  I 
ask?" 

44  Well,  I  should  take  it  for  granted  that  she  was 
none  too  good." 

44  Precisely  !  "  answered  Bruidoux.  44  Now  let  me 
tell  you  that  I  have  seen  in  the  woods  of  Canada, 
women  who  were  no  more  clothed,  than  my  nose  is,  at 
this  precise  minute.  And  yet  I  assure  you,  Colibri, 
that  these  creatures  were  better  defended  by  their  sim- 
ple innocence,  than  they  would  have  been  by  a  hundred 
and  twenty  big  cannon.  I  tell  you  this,  my  boy,  to 
show  you  of  how  little  consequence  yards  of  dry  goods 
may  be  at  certain  times.  Now,  as  regards  that  Scottish 
citoyenne  over  there,  I  tell  you  that  all  her  thousand 
and  one  wraps  affect  me  to  that  degree,  that  if  I  had 


36  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

not  sworn  fidelity  to  a  certain  lass,  whose  respectable 
name  is  transcribed  on  my  left  arm,  I  would  offer  my 
hand  and  heart  to  our  Scotch  travelling  companion." 

u  Do  you  mean  then,  Sergeant,"  said  Colibri,  "  not- 
withstanding her  vails  and  all  her  falbalas,  that  she 
would  not  be  offended  by  a  proposal,  made  civilly  and 
politely." 

"  I  do  mean  jnst  that,  Colibri." 

"And  it  would  not  be  a  hazardous  step  in  your 
estimation  ?  " 

44  Well,  it  has  its  perils  certainly — primo,  the  Princess 
might  give  you  a  cut  with  her  whip,  and,  seeundo,  it  is 
quite  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  the  Com- 
mandant might  stick  his  sabre  through  you.  But  these 
are  mere  trifles  which  should  not  deter  you.  When  I 
was  your  age  it  took  more  than  that  to  intimidate  me. 
I  remember  in  '85  there  was  a  pretty  creature  named 
Loiza " 

Here  Bruidoux  was  interrupted  by  a  general  dis- 
turbance in  the  column.  It  was  noAv  dark  but  very 
clear.  The  party  had  commenced  the  descent  of  the 
hillside.  The  narrow  valley  at  the  base,  was  swallowed 
up  in  the  darkness,  and  was  indicated  only  by  the 
white  mist  rising  from  the  marshes.  A  half  league 
further  on,  the  shadowy  outline  of  a  steep  hill  was 
seen  against  the  sky,  and  upon  the  summit  of  this  hill 
was  a  dark  mass — the  ruin  of  some  feudal  dwelling. 
Through  two  oval  windows,  streamed  the  pale  moon- 
light, though  the  moon  was  not  yet  visible  to  our  party. 


GHOSTLY    SIGHTS.  37 

Kervd  and  Francis  drew  up  short,  on  beholding  this 
strange  effect,  while  the  women,  with  a  vague  senti- 
ment of  terror,  huddled  close  together,  and  nearer  the 
officers. 

"  Is  not  that  a  scene,  Mademoiselle,"  said  Command- 
ant Herv6*,  turning  toward  the  Scotchwoman;  "sug* 
gestive  of  your  own  native  land  ?  " 

The  girl  inclined  her  head  silently. 

"  But  my  dear  brother,"  cried  Andree*,  "  we  surely 
shall  not  be  obliged  to  spend  the  night  in  this  melan- 
choly spot?" 

"  You  must  remember  that  I  did  not  deceive  you  in 
your  itinerary,"  Her^e*  replied.  ',4  You  must  attack 
our  honest  friend  Kado,  if  your   sleeping-room   fails 

you." 

"  I  shall  die  of  fright,  my  dear ;  that  I  know ! " 
answered  Andree*. 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  Canoness,  in  her  usual  solemn 
manner,  "  that  Mademoiselle  de  Pelven  will  shortly  be- 
come reconciled  to  this  old  chateau,  when  she  knows 
that  it  was  built  by  her  brave  ancestors,  and  that  it  is 
the  earliest  patrimony  of  her  family." 

"Good!"  cried  Andree*.  "I  thank  you  from  my 
very  heart,  for  your  expression.  Brave  ancestors  is 
good,  but  I  can  only  say  that  their  descendant  is  a  poor 
little  coward,  and  that  as  I  have  all  their  portraits  in 
my  brain,  I  shall  expect  to  see  them  all  night  long, 
filing  past  my  bed,  from  big-footed  Oliver,  down  to 
Greoffry  of  the  tawny  beard." 


•8  GHOSTLY    SIGHTS. 

"And  when  you  see  them,  my  dear,"  interrupted  a 
voice,  whose  calm,  grave  tones  quickened  the  beat  of 
Herve's  heart,  "why  should  you  fear  them?  You  are 
their  loyal  descendant ;  you  have  never  swerved  from 
their  faith;  you  have  preserved  the  honor  of  their  name, 
and  the  fidelity  of  their  belief.  No,  Andree,  it  is  net 
for  you  to  fear  those,  who  lived  and  died  for  their  God 
and  their  King." 

The  young  Republican  Commandant  felt  the  blood 
mount  to  his  face. 

"If  I  know  the  history  of  my  family,"  he  said,  in 
some  agitation,  "more  than  one,  among  those  of  whom 
Mademoiselle  Kergant  speaks,  died  in  fighting  against 
the  King,  for  his  country — the  country  of  a  Breton  in 
those  days  was  Brittany ;  to-day,  it  is  France !  " 

As  he  finished  these  words,  Herve*  pushed  his  horse 
onward  in  the  stony  path  which  wound  down  the  hill. 

Francis,  after  giving  orders  to  his  men  to  resume 
their  march  rejoined  his  friend. 

M  You  were  right,  Commandant,  that  girl  is  no  ordi- 
nary creature  ;  her  voice  has  a  ring  in  it,  such  as  I  never 
heard  from  any  other  woman  in  the  world.  I  wonder 
that  you  were  able  to  answer  her ;  as  for  me,  I  should 
have  ignominiously  fled." 

"She  hates  me,"  murmured  Pelven,  "she  hates  me, 
but  what  is  infinitely  worse,  she  despises  me  ! " 

"  That  she  does  not  love  you  is  quite  possible,  Com- 
mandant Herve^  but  the  contrary  is  possible  also,  as 
you  will  allow  me  to  suggest.     But  look  at  our  guide  1 


OnOSTLY     SIGHTS.  39 

What  on  eauh  does  he  mean,  by  crossing  himself  in 
that  frantic  way  on  his  arms  ?  " 

"  I  don't. know ;  some  Breton  superstition,  probably," 
answered  Herve* ;  and  going  toward  his  guide,  the 
Commandant  heard  him  praying,  and  saw  him  raise  his 
rosary  to  his  lips.  Astonished  at  this  sudden  access  of 
devotion,  the  young  man  laid  his  hand  gently  on  the 
guide's  shoulder,  who  turned  with  a  start. 

"  Excuse  me,  friend,"  said  Pelven,  "  but  this  road  is 
a  difficult  one,  and  we  require  all  your  assistance. 
The  moment  is  not  well  selected  for  your  prayers." 

"  It  is  not  becoming  in  the  sons  of  those  who  lie 
over  there,"  answered  the  Breton,  gravely,  pointing  to 
the  chateau,  uto  say  that  it  is  not  well  to  pray,  when 
one  comes  through  the  valley  of  the  Groac'h." 

4'  You  know,  Kado,  that  I  never  lived  in  this  country, 
and  I  know  nothing  of  this  valley,  whose  very  name  in 
fact,  I  hear  for  the  first  time." 

"  It  is  a  bad  thing,  master,"  said  the  guard,  with 
solemn  emphasis,  "when  the  bird  wanders  from  the 
thicket  where  his  father  and  mother  sang,  as  they 
builded  their  nest." 

"  Kado,"  interrupted  Hervd,  with  some  austerity ; 
"  we  have  always  been  friends,  do  not  compel  me  to 
forget  this.  I  ask  you  now,  if  any  especial  danger 
appertains  to  this  valley,  that  you  make  use  of  all  your 
conjurations." 

u  This  valley  is  haunted,"  sai<*  Kado.  in  a  whisper, 
pressing  his  rosary  fervently  to  lim  lips. 


40  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

"Why  didn't  you  take  another  road,  then?  Youi 
flight  was  unnecessary." 

wi  I  am  not  afraid,"  answered  the  Breton.  "  I  have 
come  through  this  valley  alone,  and  at  midnight,  more 
than  once  without  fear.  My  conscience  is  clear,  and 
the  stones  never  dance  before  my  eyes.  Let  me  pray 
Monsieur  Herve,  for  I  am  not  praying  for  myself." 

"  For  whom  then,  Kado  ?  For  what  terrible  criminal 
are  you  so  anxious  ?  " 

This  question  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  anger,  and  of 
menace,  but  did  not  in  the  least  disturb  the  serenity  of 
th )  guide,  who  answered  half  sadly. 

"  I  am  praying,  sir,  for  those  who  have  learned  to 
threaten  those  of  this  district,  who  have  learned  to 
threaten  those,  who  held  them  when  tiny  children,  on 
their  knees." 

This  appeal  to  cherished  memories,  uttered  by  this 
well-known  voice,  brought  down  the  haughty  pride  of 
the  youth.  He  was  touched  by  the  reproach  of  this 
rude  peasant,  whose  honest  nature  he  thoroughly 
understood,  although  he  had  rebelled  against  the  words 
uttered  by  Bellah. 

"You  are  right,  Kado,"  he  said,  "it  is  a  disastrous 
season,  when  children  of  the  same  households,  become 
as  strangers,  or  as  enemies.  But  whose  fault  is  it? 
You  are  clear-headed  and  honest-hearted;  and  I  am 
sure  cannot  believe  that  I  have  relinquished  so  much 
that  is  dear  to  me,  without  being  drawn  away  by  some 
new  duty  of  which  God  has  made  a  law  for  me." 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  41 

"  There  are  no  new  duties,"  answered  Kado,  senten- 
tiously ;  "  that  which  was  right  for  your  father,  is  right 
for  you  I     The  truth  never  changes." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Herve\  "  I  have  heard  you,  yourself, 
tell  how  in  early  days,  the  people  of  Brittany  prayed 
to  the  stones  like  Pagans." 

44  Yes,  that  is  true,  master." 

"  Well,  this  was  truth  to  them.  Then  when  the 
Christian  religion  was  known,  the  first  who  renounced 
the  false  gods  to  follow  the  new  law,  were  called  infidels 
and  traitors.  To  them  were  given  the  same  names 
which  to-day  you  give  to  me  —  and  to  them  was  said 
what  you  have  just  said,  '  truth  never  changes,'  and  yet 
it  has  changed,  as  you  must  admit." 

"  The  law  of  the  Gospel  is  good,"  said  the  Breton, 
shaking  his  head ;  " '  it  never  requires  men  to  rob  and 
kill  their  brothers ! '  " 

**  It  requires  them,"  answered  Herve*,  energetically, 
"  to  treat  each  other  like  children  of  the  same  blood, 
like  creatures  of  the  same  day,  and  it  is  because  there 
are  men  who  have  wilfully  forgotten  this  law — Avho, 
believing  themselves  to  be  superior  to  their  brothers, 
oppress  and  despise  them,  and  make  it  necessary  that 
the  cause  of  Truth  and  Justice,  should  be  fought  for." 

"  If  I  understand  you,  master,"  said  the  guide,  who 
had  been  listening  with  breathless  attention  to  the 
words  of  the  young  oni«er,  "  these  men  who  think 
themselves  superior  are  the  Seigneurs,  the  gentlemen, 
but  all  your  ancestors  were  Seigneurs;  do  you  intend  to 
say,  therefore,  that  your  ancestors  were  ail  criminals?" 


42  GHOSTLY     SIGnTS. 

"  My  ancestors,  good  friend,  believed  themselves  to  be 
right,  and  lived  up  to  their  lights ;  but  God  Almighty 
has  shown  to  us,  that  which  He  saw  fit  to  vail  from 
them.  I  should  have  been  deeply  culpable,  therefore, 
had  I  consulted  my  interests,  and  adhered  to  the  cus- 
toms of  my  father,  when  their  iniquity  was  shown  to 
me.     They  did  their  duty  and  I  do  mine." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  answered  Kado,  thought- 
fully. Then  he  added  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  I  am 
very  ignorant,  and  I  scarce  know  how  to  sign  my  name, 
but  I  have  thought  a  good  deal  always,  of  what  I  heard 
talked  of  about  me.  Well,  then,  master,  they  say  that 
you  don't  wish  people  to  be  great  or  humble,  rich  or 
poor,  but  desire  all  to  be  equal.  Now  I  know  very 
well  that  this  cannot  be,  the  good  God  has  made  the 
strong  and  the  weak — to  some  people  he  has  given 
brains,  and  to  others,  none  —  some  persons  are  lazy, 
others  industrious,  how  then,  can  you  make  them  all 
alike?" 

**  We  should  be  madmen,  Kado,  if  we  had  any  such 
notion.  Far  from  dreaming  of  changing  anything  that 
God  has  made,  we  try  so  far  as  is  possible,  to  follow 
His  example  in  what  we  do.  Does  your  religion  tell 
you  that  God  judges  and  condemns  unborn  children  ? 
No  ;  it  does  not,  you  say.  Very  well,  then.  He  places 
men  on  the  earth  with  full  liberty  to  do  well,  or  to  do 
ill,  and  he  waits  before  condemning  them,  until  they 
live  out  the  life  to  which  he  called  them.  Just  in 
the  same  way,  does  our  Republic  refuse  to  condemn  a 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  43 

rfian  to  despair,  merely  on  account  of  his  birth.  The 
Republic  allows  all  to  exercise  the  gifts  they  ,iave 
received  from  the  Lord,  and  claim  that  all  have  an 
equal  right  to  serve  and  honor  the  Republic." 

"This  sounds  very  reasonable,"  said  the  Breton, 
meditatively;  "and  more  than  reasonable,  it  sounds 
right;  but  it  is  not  in  the  least  what  we  have  been 
told.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  talking  to  me.  I  knew 
you,  Monsieur  Plerve*,  when  you  were  an  infant.  I 
taught  you  to  pull  the  trigger  of  the  first  gun  you 
handled — you  were  a  brave  little  fellow!  Swallows 
always  fly  away  when  the  bad  weather  comes.  I  am 
glad  to  know  that  you  had  a  better  reason  for  deserting 
us,  and  my  heart  is  less  heavy  now  when  I  think  of 
you." 

Kado  walked  on  in  silence,  sadly,  and  with  drooping 
head. 

"  I  am  too  old  and  that  is  the  truth,"  he  said,  drearily. 
"  If  I  were  younger,  I  should  like  to  think  out  what 
you  have  been  saying ;  but  at  my  age  you  see,  master, 
if  I  should  undertake  to  tear  from  my  heart  things  and 
people,  that  have  been  there  always,  I  am  sure  it  would 
kill  me.     Now  don't  let  us  talk  of  it  any  more." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Kado,"  said  Herve",  and  he 
pressed,  with  warm  cordiality,  the  hand  trembling 
with  emotion,  extended  by  the  old  guard. 

As  he  turned  away,  Herve*  saw  that  his  young  Aid 
de-Camp  was  close  at  his  side. 

"  What  was  that  you  were  saying,  Kado,"  he  asked, 
"about  this  valley  of  the  Groac'h?" 


44  GHOSTLY    SIGHtS. 

kv  I  said  it  was  haunted,  master.** 
k  Haunted  !     What  on  earth  does  he  mean  ?  "  asked 
Francis. 

I  "  It  means,  my  dear  boy,  that  old  William,  commonly 
'called  the  Devil,  holds  his  court  in  this  valley,  and  that 
you  will  probably  see  in  the  moonlight  crowds  of 
faries,  and  korandons  who  are  just  like  human  beings, 
except  in  size." 

"  Ah !  this  is  delicious !  "  cried  Francis,  with  a  laugh. 

A  gesture  and  an  exclamation  from  the  guard,  who 
suddenly  stood  still,  checked  the  young  man.  The 
little  party  was  two-thirds  down  the  hill,  and  con- 
tinued to  wind  slowly  along  the  steep  path,  which  was 
in  fact,  little  more  than  a  staircase  hewn  in  the  rock. 
Notwithstanding  their  confidence  in  their  horses,  who 
bred  in  this  mountainous  region,  were  as  sure  footed  as 
the  mules  of  the  Spanish  sierras,  the  women  and  even 
the  soldiers,  gave  all  their  attention  to  the  difficulties 
of  the  road,  and  preserved  a  profound  silence.  The 
exclamation  uttered  by  the  guide,  and  his  abrupt  halt, 
were  heard  therefore  and  commented  upon,  even  by  the 
last  of  the  column. 

Kado  stopped  as  we  have  said,  and  listened  with 
neck  extended  in  the  attitude  of  a  man  who  is  in 
momentary  expectation  of  his  ears  confirming  some 
terrible  suspicion. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Herve*,  hastily, 

"I  was  mistaken,  for  which  I  thank  my  Heavenly 
Father,"  answered  Kado,  "for  although  I  have  never 
seen  the  awful  sight  with  my  own  eyes  — " 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  45 

The  guide  started  and  interrupted  himself,  shudder 
ing  from  head  to  foot  with  horror. 

"Alas!  "he  murmured,  "I  was  not  mistaken,  it  is 
they !     Listen,  master !  " 

Pelven,  and  all  who  followed,  listened  in  their  turn. 
They  distinctly  heard  a  sound  of  blows  struck  at  reg- 
ular intervals,  resembling  the  sounds  of  a  hammer. 
The  noise  seemed  to  come  from  several  different  points 
of  the  valley. 

"What  the  deuce  is  that  noise ?"  asked  Francis; 
"one  would  think  that  a  lot  of  laundresses  were  at 
work  on  their  linen,  by  the  side  of  a  running  stream." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  the  guide,  sadly,  "  they  are 
beating  the  linen  of  the  dead." 

He  uncovered  his  head,  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven, 
and  began  to  pray  in  a  low  voice. 

Herve'  was  in  a  most  embarrassing  position.  He 
realized  the  necessity  of  cutting  short  a  scene  which 
might  have  a  most  disastrous  effect  on  the  spirits  of  the 
women,  and  even  on  the  soldiers,  but  he  was  unwilling 
to  say  anything  in  ths  least  rough  to  the  man  with 
whom  he  had  just  renewed  the  familiarity  of  his 
boyhood.  Amid  his  hesitation,  he  felt  a  light  touch  on 
his  arm. 

"Brother,"  murmured  Andrew's  flute -like  voice, 
"  you  are  going  to  scold  me,  but  I  assure  you  that  I  am 
frightened  out  of  my  wits.  They  are  the  lavandiere* 
de  nuit,  you  kr.ow." 

"  I  know  nothing  of   the  kind,  goose ! "  answered 


46  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

Herve*,  with  a  laugh;  then  whispering  in  the  guard's 
ear,  he  said,  "  Go  on,  my  good  Kado,  don't  frighten  my 
sister  by  another  word,  I  implore  you." 

Kado  looked  at  the  young  man  for  a  moment,  as  if 
in  doubt,  and  then,  with  a  long  sigh,  resumed  his 
'march,  telling  his  beads  as  he  walked.  Herv^  turned 
to  the  soldiers. 

"Come  on,  boys! "  he  cried,  gayly:  "it  seems  that 
certain  ci-devant  laundresses  are  down  there,  but  the 
Republic,  you  know,  never  recognizes  any  such  people : 
en  avant !  en  avant ! " 

"  Commandant,"  answered  Bruidoux,  "  Colibri  wants 
to  give  them  some  more  work,  by  sending  them  his  six 
dozen  of  silk  hose  !  " 

Reassured  in  regard  to  the  moral  state  of  his  men, 
by  the  laugh  that  greeted  this  sally,  Commandant 
Herve*  moved  on  with  more  composure.  Meanwhile 
the  sounds  they  had  first  heard  from  the  valley  became 
more  and  more  distinct  as  they  crossed  the  meadows, 
and  became  precisely  like  the  peculiar  beating  of  the 
wooden  baton  on  wet  linen ;  sometimes,  too,  they 
caught  the  sharp  sound  made  by  the  baton,  as  it  struck 
the  uncovered  stones. 

"May  I  ask  you,  Commandant,"  said  Francis,  "what 
species  of  animal,  is  the  one  you  call  a  lavandieres  ?  " 

"  Lavandieres,  Lieutenant,  ire  diabolical  women  who, 
at  midnight,  wash  the  shrouds  of  the  dead.  It  is  said 
that  they  ask  any  one  who  passes  to  help  them 
wring  their  linen.     In  this  case,  the  only  safety  is  to 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  47 

comply  with  their  request,  but  you  must  wring  the 
same  way  they  do,  or  you  are  lost." 

M  Ah !  "  said  Francis,  "  I  am  infinitely  obliged  for 
your  advice.  I  am  in  earnest  however,  and  would 
really  like  to  know,  to  what  cause,  you  in  your  heart 
attribute  this  extraordinary  noise.  The  fog  is  sweep- 
ing away,  the  moon  is  flooding  the  valley  with  its  light, 
and  I  don't  see  the  smallest  indication  of  an  habitation." 

"  That  is  true,  but  you  only  see  the  merest  corner  of 
the  valley .  from  this  point,  because  of  that  mass  of 
rocks  which  we  must  turn.  A  shepherd  lad  might 
easily  make  the  noise  by  beating  one  stone  with  a  stick, 
and  then  the  echoes  taking  it  up " 

"But,  my  dear  Commandant,"  interrupted  Francis, 
"twenty  little  shepherds  could  not  make  all  that 
noise ! " 

"  There  may  be  some  cascade  there." 

"  No  cascade  ever  sounded  like  that !  It  is  really 
most  extraordinary,  and  I  begin  to  think  I  smell 
sulphur,  don't  you  Commandant?" 

"  Our  ears  play  us  strange  tricks  at  night,"  answered 
Herv6,  replying  rather  to  his  own  thoughts  than  to  his 
companion.     "  Do  you  believe  in  ghosts,  Francis  ?  " 

"  I  begin  to  do  so,  Commandant,  and  upon  my  life  I 
don't  like  this  !  " 

"  Hush !  Don't  say  so  aloud  at  all  events.  I,  too, 
was  considerably  disturbed,  until  I  read  the  riddle. 
This  valley  has  a  wonderful  echo,  and  the  noise  made 
by  the  hoofs  of  the  horses,  is  repeated  over  and  over 
again." 


48  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

"Look  there!"  interrupted  Francis.  "Be  they 
washerwomen  or  devils,  there  they  are  !  " 

The  two  officers  had  now  reached  the  rocks  which 
had  hitherto  concealed  a  large  portion  of  the  valley. 
Herve"  turned  to  the  point  indicated  by  Francis,  and 
was  stupefied  to  perceive,  at  a  hundred  paces  off,  a 
group  of  women  all  in  white.  Some  were  stooping 
over  the  water,  others  were  spreading  linen  on  the 
scanty  tufts  of  marsh  grass.  A  cry  of  dismay  and 
startled  exclamations,  told  Herve  that  both  women  and 
soldiers,  had  seen  this  strange  sight. 

"  Here,  Colibri ! "  cried  Bruidoux,  "  now's  the  time 
for  you  to  take  your  silk  hose  from  your  trunk." 

"  Herve* !  "  cried  Andree*,  throwing  her  arms  around 
her  brother,  "  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  who  are  those  ?  " 

"  Chouans,  my  dear  !  I  was  warned  that  we  should 
find  these  gentlemen  here.  Stay  where  you  are,  and 
fear  nothing." 

As  he  uttered  this  pious  falsehood,  invented  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  in  order  to  substitute  a  healthy 
fear  for  the  supernatural  terror,  which  had  assailed  the 
party,  Herve  noticed  that  the  Canoness  started  and 
turned  a  penetrating  look  upon  him.  This  look  once 
more  aroused  his  suspicions.  He  hurried  toward 
Francis,  and  said  quickly, 

"  Look  at  the  Canoness,  she  is  not  in  the  smallest 
degree  disturbed,  it  is  some  snare." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  the  youth,  drawing  a 
long  breath  of  relief,  but  as  the  young  men  turned 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  40 

to  look  toward  the  valley,  they  saw  that  the  white 
forms  continued  at  their  task,  without  showing  any 
knowledge  of  the  presence  of  the  Republican  detach- 
ment. The  soldiers  were  evidently  growing  very 
uneasy. 

"  This  must  cease,"  murmured  Herve\  "  Boys — we 
must  make  them  fold  their  linen !  You,  ladies,  must 
remain  behind  these  rocks,  while  my  men  make  their 
charge." 

The  click  of  their  fire-arms  was  heard,  as  the  soldiers, 
headed  by  their  officers,  moved  over  the  wet  soil  of  the 
valley. 

As  they  approached  the  white  figures,  it  seemed  to 
the  soldiers  that  they  increased  in  height  and  size  until 
their  proportions  became  positively  supernatural.  They 
were  not  now  forty  feet  off,  when  all  at  once  the 
strange  apparitions  formed  a  circle,  and  began  to  dance 
to  the  accompaniment  of  a  low  buzzing  sound  like  that 
heard  about  a  huge  bee-hive. 

Herve*  cried  "  Halt !  "  Then  addressing  the  phan- 
toms, after  a  brief  silence,  he  said,  "I  warn  you, 
whomsoever  you  may  be,  that  I  do  not  wish  to  run 
the  risk  of  one  of  my  men  being  injured  in  this  silly 
skirmish.     Surrender  or  I  fire  !  " 

The  lavandilres  continued  their  mysterious  move- 
ments, quite  undisturbed. 

"  Fire  !  "  said  Herve\ 

As  soon  as  the  smoke  was  a  little  dissipated,  and 
the  soldiers  were  able  to  ascertain  the  result  of  the 
4 


50  GHOSTLY     SIGHTS. 

discharge  they  shouted  with  laughter,  for  all  the 
actors  iu  this  fantastic  ballet  lay  motionless  on  the 
turf,  like  bales  of  cotton. 

"  That  will  teach  them,"  muttered  Bruidoux,  "  to 
dance  their  unholy  dances  by  moonlight  again." 

Meanwhile  Herve*  ordered  the  guns  to  be  reloaded, 
and  led  his  men  quickly  on.  All  at  once  the  whole 
of  the  figures  started  up  and  rushed  across  the  plain 
with  every  indication  of  life. 

"  Come  on,  Francis,"  cried  Herve",  pricking  his  spurs 
into  his  horse,  "and  you,  my  men,  follow  on  !  " 

Unfortunately  the  soil  was  very  heavy,  and  the 
horses  stumbled  over  obstacles,  which  the  phantoms 
were  able  to  avoid,  either  through  instinct,  or  by  a 
knowledge  of  the  locality.  The  soldiers,  following 
with  shouts  and  cries,  imprecations  and  laughter, 
imparted  a  sabbat-like  aspect  to  the  haunted  valley. 

The  lavandieres  having  reached  the  extremity  of  tie 
valley,  began  to  climb  the  hill  on  which  stood  the 
feudal  ruin.  Herve^  and  Francis  redoubled  their  efforts, 
and  presently  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  feet 
of  their  horses  sound  on  the  harder  soil  of  the  hill. 
Pelven  went  a  few  steps  beyond. 

"  Commandant,"  cried  Francis,  "  wait  for  me ! "  And 
seeing  that  Herve"  pushed  on,  without  heeding  him,  he 
continued : 

"  Look  out !  You  may  fall  into  some  trap  !  There 
may  be  a  hundred  Chouans  up  there  !  " 

"If  there  are  a  thousand,  and   the  devil  himself  a$ 


GHOSTLY     SIGHTS.  51 

their  head,"  answered  Hei-ve*  wrathfully,  "  I  swear  I 
tfill  do  my  best  to  kill  one  ! " 

When  the  young  Commandant  reached  the  top  of 
the  hill,  he  uttered  a  cry  of  triumph  at  finding  himself 
within  a  pistol  shot  of  the  lavandieres.  The  fugitives, 
hotly  pursued,  fled  with  the  greatest  speed  to  the  ruins, 
but  Francis,  forseeing  this  manoeuvre,  had  quietly 
taken  measures  to  cut  them  off,  so  that  the  phantoms 
were  between  the  two  officers.  Herve*  saw  them  dis- 
appear behind  a  ruined  wall,  but  to  his  great  surprise 
did  not  see  them  again  on  the  other  side.  Francis 
was  dumbfounded.  "They  have  hidden  there,"  he 
cried.  The  two  young  officers  spurred  on  their  horses 
until  they  reached  this  isolated  wall.  Every  trace  of 
the  lavandieres  had  disappeared,  they  dismounted  and 
kneeling  on  the  ground,  examined  the  soil,  and  turned 
over  every  stone,  but  could  discover  nothing  which 
would  explain  to  their  satisfaction,  the  meaning  of  this 
strange  occurrence. 


62  TREACHERY. 

CHAPTER    III. 

TREACHERY. 

"TTPON  my  life,"  said  Herve*,  as  he  remounted,  "1 

U  shall  regret  as  long  as  I  live,  my  inability  to 
turn  this  comedy  into  a  tragedy.  But  I  can't  afford  to 
risk  the  lives  of  my  men,  by  making  further  attempts 
now.  It  is  clear  that  these  people  have  some  issue 
which  we  cannot  discover." 

"  All  right !  Commandant,  but  how  the  Canoness 
must  be  laughing  in  her  sleeve ! " 

44  Let  her  laugh,  our  turn  will  come !  Silence !  I  hear 
our  men." 

The  soldiers  were  running,  all  breathless  and  covered 
with  mud.  On  seeing  their  officers,  they  uttered  a 
shout  of  joy,  and  crowded  around  them  with  eager  curi- 
osity. Herve"  told  them  that  the  Chouans  had  had 
time  to  disappear  down  the  other  side  of  the  hill  before 
he  reached  the  plateau,  and  even  went  so  far,  as  to 
point  out  a  clump  of  trees  where  he  said  they  were. 

As  the  questions  to  which  he  was  obliged  to  reply, 
began  to  embarrass  him,  he  was  relieved  by  the  appear- 
ance of  the  women  and  the  guide.  Andree  threw 
herself  into  her  brother's  arms,  who  soothed  her  with 
a  repetition  of  the  fable  he  had  invented.  Then 
leaving  a  sentinel  at  the   wall,   with    directions    to 


TREACHERY.  53 

Watch  the  grove  in  the  distance,  he  led  the  way  to  the 
chateau,  his  sister  at  his  side. 

44  My  child,"  said  Herve^  snatching  a  moment  when 
the  Canoness  could  not  hear  him, 44  have  you  really  any 
love  in  your  heart  for  me  ?  " 

44  Love  for  you  ?  Herve*,  my  dear  brother,  what  do 
you  mean?  You  know  I  love  you  with  my  whole 
heart!" 

44  Thank  you,  dear  Andree*,  your  words  console  me 
greatly,  for  I  began  to  fear." 

44  Fear  what  ?  " 

44  That  my  sister,  was  an  accomplice  in  some  enter- 
prise against  my  honor  as  a  man  and  a  soldier." 

44  Your  honor,  Herve*  ?  Is  not  that  a  word,  in  regard 
tc  the  meaning  of  which  we  might  disagree  ?  " 

44  Permit  me  to  explain  myself  clearly,"  said  Herve*, 
with  .some  severity.  44  My  honor  consists,  in  serving 
unto  death,  the  colors  you  see  here  —  and  it  is  my  duty 
to  inform  you,  Andree",  that  any  and  every  project 
intended  to  make  me  fall  short  of  the  aim  I  have  set 
before  me,  will  result  in  the  confusion  and  destruction 
of  those  who  conceive  it." 

44  In  Heaven's  name,  brother,"  said  Andree*,  looking 
at  Herve*  with  that  air  of  astonishment  which  is  often 
a  trick  even  with  the  youngest  of  women,  "what  sus- 
picion can  you  have  of  me?" 

44  None  of  you,  in  particular,  but  the  scene  that  has 
just  taken  place  is  not,  I  fancy,  as  inexplicable  to  the 
other  ladies  as  yourself,  and  I  fear  that  it  is  but  the 


54  TREACHERY. 

prelude  of  other  tricks  less  harmless,  and  this  is  the 
reason  why  I  repeat  to  you,  that  I  am  incapable  of  pre- 
ferring life,  to  the  honor  of  dying  with  my  soldiers." 

Hearing  these  words,  which  so  clearly  revealed 
Ilerve's  apprehensions,  the  young  girl  uttered  a  pro- 
found sigh. 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  she  said  eagerly.  "  I  know 
that  neither  you  nor  your  men  run  any  greater  danger 
in  this  journey  than  we  do  !  "  and  then  placing  her  lips 
close  to  her  brother's  ear  she  murmured,  "you  know 
very  well  that  there  are  two  persons  here  who  would 
not  be  likely  to  allow  you  to  come  to  harm.v 

With  this  ingenious  drop  of  opium  in  the  ear  of  her 
suspicious  brother,  Andrei  ran  gayly  on,  until  she 
reached  the  hall  of  the  deserted  manor. 

The  large  irregularly  built  edifice,  called  by  the 
peasantry,  the  "  Chateau  de  la  Groac'h,"  bore  the 
imprint  of  the  various  ages  which  had  passed  over  its 
head.  The  principal  portion  of  the  ruin,  was  of  the 
imposing  character  of  the  twelfth  century,  other  parts 
were  older  still,  while  one  whole  wing  went  no  farther 
back,  than  to  the  last  days  of  the  Valois.  This  part  of 
the  building  was  still  habitable,  having  windows  and 
some  few  other  indications  of  civilization. 

It  was  here  that  Mademoiselle  de  Pelven  joined 
Bellah  and  the  Canoness.  They  were  traversing  the 
dilapidated  rooms,  guided  by  Kado,  eager  to  select 
two  which  would  afford  them  the  most  secure  shelter 
for  the  night,  then  Kado  served  the  ladies  with  the 


TREACHERY.  55 

provisions  which  they  had  themselves  prepared  in  the 
last  village  they  had  come  through.  The  meal  was 
brief  and  silent.  Andree*  and  Bellah  speedily  departed 
to  the  room  assigned  to  them,  the  Canoness  shared 
hers  with  Alix,  and  the  Scotch  woman  took  possession 
of  a  tiny  orator}''  in  a  tower.  Several  camp  beds  had 
been  sent  on  in  advance,  through  Kado's  thoughtful- 
ness,  he  having  been  allowed  to  make  all  the  practical 
arrangements  of  the  expedition. 

When  Bellah  and  Andrei  were  alone  in  their  great 
room,  lighted  only  by  one  night  taper,  they  sank  on 
their  knees  as  by  one  impulse,  and  began  to  pray. 
Andree*  was  the  first  to  rise,  and  going  to  a  window, 
she  looked  down  with  interest  on  the  scene  below. 
The  soldiers  had  lighted  fires  here  and  there,  and  their 
light  flashed  at  intervals  through  the  mutilated  ogives. 
On  the  turfy  slope  in  front  of  the  manor,  Commandant 
Herve  was  walking  alone ;  busy,  probably,  in  turning 
over  and  over  in  his  mind,  with  all  a  lover's  anxious 
childishness,  the  last  words  uttered  by  his  sister.  Sud- 
denly he  stood  still,  and  looked  up  to  the  window  at 
which  the  young  girl  was  standing.  She  drew  back 
hastily  and  began  to  pace  the  room  with  evident  agita- 
tion, twisting  and  knotting  her  handkerchief  nervously, 
as  she  moved.  As  Bellah  rose  from  her  knees  she 
noticed  Andrew's  flushed  cheeks,  and  said  anxiously. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  dear  sister  ?  " 

Andree  made  no  reply,  but  thrust  aside  the  detaining 
hand  and  continued  her  troubled  walk. 


66  TREACHERY. 

"Are  you  displeased  with  me?"  said  Bellah,  "and 
for  what?" 

"Listen,"  said  Andree*,  stopping  short  and  coming  up 
to  her,  "  this  cannot  last.  I  can  not  sleep  a  wink 
to-night." 

"Are  you  really  as  much  afraid  as  all  that?  But 
.sweet  one,  am  I  not  with  you  ?  Your  noble  ancestors 
would  take  no  pleasure  in  terrifying  us.  Besides,  we 
have  a  light  that  will  burn  all  night,  and  spirits  you 
know " 

"  Spirits !  What  do  I  care  for  them ! "  returned 
Andree*,  with  a  little  snap  of  her  fingers.  "  I  am  not 
in  the  least  afraid  of  my  ancestors,  nor  do  I  care  a  sou 
about  them.     I  only  wish  I  had  never  had  any !  " 

At  this  impulsive  reply,  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant 
raised  her  eyes  to  Heaven  with  a  supplicating  expres- 
sion quite  usual  with  her,  and  then  said:  "  But  in  that 
case,  why  should  you  not  sleep,  and  allow  me  to  do  the 
same  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Andree*. 

Mademoiselle  Kergant  sighed,  gave  a  slight  shrug  of 
her  shoulders,  and  answered  gently, 

"  Nor  do  I,  my  dear !  " 

"  Your  aunt  is  an  old  dragon ! "  cried  Andrei. 

"  My  dear  sister !  " 

"  And  you  are  another,  Bellah !  " 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant, 
again  raising  her  eyes  to  Heaven,  with  an  expression 
quite  worthy  of  herself. 


TREACHERY.  57 

Andree*  lost  all  patience. 

"You  never  once  thought,"  she  cried,  "of  inviting 
my  brother  to  breakfast  witk  his  sister!  No,  you  left 
him  at  the  door,  as  if  he  had  been  a  dog,  my  poor,  dear 
boy  !  How  mistaken  we  were  !  I  really  expected  im 
better  from  your  aunt,  but  from  you — !  when  you 
know,  too,  how  Herve  loves  you." 

The  passionate  child  hesitated  a  little,  as  she  uttered 
the  last  two  words  and  turned  away  as  if  afraid  to 
meet  the  eyes  of  her  companion. 

UI  know,"  said  Bellah,  slowly,  and  with  infinite 
pathos  in  her  voice,  "  that  Hervd,  is  the  brother  of  the 
dearest  and  truest  friend  I  have  in  the  world,  and  it  is 
because  I  know  this,  Andree,  that  I  have  done  violence 
to  my  sentiments,  and  have  not  received  him  as  a 
stranger,  although  I  knew  him  to  be  an  apostate, 
unworthy  the  name  he  bears !  " 

"  Precisely !  "  cried  Andrei,  "  and  you  would  forget 
the  ten  years  of  affection  in  this  way  !  Let  me  pass  I 
The  apostate  shall  know,  that  he  is  not  the  only  traitor 
here.     Let  me  pass,  I  say !  " 

"  Andree*,"  answered  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  "  you 
surely  will  not  do  that  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  will,"  Andree*  replied  with  compressed 
lips,  "you  have  made  me  blush  for  my  brother  —  you 
shall  blush  before  him." 

Bellah  snatched  Andrew's  robe  in  terror,  and  falling 
almost  on  her  knees  before  her: 

"In  heaven's  name,  dear  Andree*,  do  not  go  to  him 
now  !     Wait  and  think." 


58  TREACHERY. 

"  No,  no.  You  have  been  pitiless ;  I  will  be  so  in 
my  turn,"  answered  the  girl,  half  wildly.  "  Let  me 
go,  I  say ! " 

She  rushed  to  the  door.  Bellah  rose  to  her  feet,  and 
stood  motionless ;  she  was  white  and  cold  as  marble ; 
her  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  her  nostrils  dilated.  She 
raised  her  right  hand,  with  a  truly  royal  gesture,  and 
in  a  tone  of  great  solemnity,  said : 

"  Andree*  de  Pelven,  is  this  the  hospitality  which  you 
offer  ns  under  your  ancestral  roof?  This  place,  thanks 
to  you,  will  indeed  be  accursed  after  this.  But  since 
you  are  in  earnest,  and  this  misfortune  is  unavoidable, 
I  will  spare  your  lips  the  shame  of  this  confession,  and 
you  will  see  if  I  blush  in  calliug  martyrdom  upon  my 
head  ! " 

The  young  enthusiast,  with  lips  still  trembling, 
advanced  with  dignity,  toward  the  door,  against  which 
Andree*  was  standing,  with  dilated  eyes.  As  Bellah 
touched  her  to  move  her  gently  aside,  the  poor  child 
shivered  from  head  to  foot,  turned  deadly  pale  and 
glided  slowly  to  the  ground.  Bellah  dropped  on  her 
knees,  lifted  her  friend's  head  in  her  arms,  and  as 
she  covered  with  kisses,  the  brow  and  hair  of  the  fragile 
creature,  murmured  : 

"  Holy  virgin  !  what  have  I  done  ?  Andree* !  Sweet 
sister !  Ah !  help  her,  dear  Heaven !  Poor  child — it  is 
Bellah  —  nothing  has  happened.  Look  up,  sweet.  I 
will  do  just  as  you  wish,  only  speak  to  me,  little 
sister ! " 


TREACHEKY.  69 

Andrei  returned  slowly  to  life,  under  this  rain  of 
caresses.  She  opened  her  eyes,  smiled  like  a  child 
awakening  from  sleep,  and  said  faintly: 

u  Admit  that  you  love  him  a  little  !  " 

"She  is  still  dreaming,"  murmured  Bellah.  "You 
feel  better,  dear,  do  you  not?" 

"  Yes ;  I  feel  better  if  you  love  him — but  I  am  very 
much  worse,  if  you  do  not  love  him,"  answered  Andree*. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  murmured  Bellah. 

"  Your  heaven  will  be  his  heaven — your  will  his  law, 
whenever  you  say  the  word."  Then  suddenly  throw- 
ing her  arms  around  her  friend's  neck,  Andree*  cried : 

"  Listen  to  me  !  I  don't  ask  you  to  shout  to  him 
from  the  window,  '  Commandant,  I  adore  you ! '  but 
you  owe  him  something,  after  all  he  has  suffered.  You 
must  give  him  something — what  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all." 

"Ah,  I  have  it ! "  and  the  girl  snatched  the  white 
feather  from  Bellah's  hat ;  "  what  a  triumph  it  will  be, 
ma  belle,  to  compel  a  Republican  officer  to  wear  the 
colors  of  the  King." 

This  adroit  compromise  was  not  much  to  the  taste 
of  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant.  She  darted  forward  to 
take  possession  of  the  feather,  which  her  adopted  sister 
was  about  to  put  to  such  treacherous  use,  but  Andree*, 
always  quicker  in  her  movements,  than  her  friend,  had 
already  opened  the  window,  and  Bellah  reached  her  side 
just  in  time  to  add,  by  her  presence,  a  more  precious 
significance   to   the   token,  now   fluttering   over  Con? 


60  TftEACBERY. 

niandant  llerve's  head.  Andree*  laughed  in  gay 
delight,  while  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  withdrew 
precipitately  from  the  window,  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders  with  an  air  of  offended  dignity. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  dainty  projectile,  falling  to  the 
feet  of  the  Commandant,  was  endowed  with  some  fairy 
power,  for  the  young  man,  on  seeing  it,  seemed  to 
have  taken  root,  and  stood  motionless.  He  felt  that 
he  was  being  watched  from  the  window,  and  was  in  a 
most  uncomfortable  state  of  mind,  as  he  dared  not  leave 
the  feather  where  it  had  fallen,  nor  yet  did  he  dare  to 
pick  it  up.  If  he  did  so  with  the  eagerness  of  a  lover, 
he  felt  that  he  would  be  mercilessly  ridiculed,  as  it  was 
more  than  likely,  to  be  some  freak  of  Andrew's.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  he  turned  away  indifferently,  did  he  not 
run  the  risk  of  gravely  offending  her,  from  whom  this 
discreet  message  came,  as  he  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart 
fondly  hoped.  Tossed  between  these  conflicting  doubts 
and  impulses,  Herve*  finally  resolved  on  a  medium 
course.  He  stooped  and  picked  up  the  little  feather 
delicately  and  slowly,  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  not 
with  the  smallest  eagerness,  but  with  the  air  of  a  man, 
who  has  found  something  that  has  awakened  his  curi- 
osity. He  then  walked  on  examining  his  trouvaille, 
with  a  certain  nonchalance,  as  if  he  were  saying  to 
himself:  "  The  deuce  take  it !  Is 'this  an  ostrich  plume  ? 
Is  it  common  to  find  them  in  this  part  of  the  world  ?  " 

But  as  soon  as  the  young  man  found  himself  shel- 


TREACHERY.  61 

tered  behind  a  wall  from  all  curious  eyes,  his  counte- 
nance changed,  and  he  eagerly  pressed  the  plume  to  his 
lips.  Then  with  a  smile  at  his  own  weakness,  he  tore 
open  a  button  in  his  uniform,  and  folding  the  feather, 
laid  it  away  as  a  relic  against  his  heart.  After  hiding 
his  treasure,  with  a  guilty  expression  on  his  face,  the 
young  Commandant,  seeing  that  repose  and  silence 
appeared  to  reign  in  the  room  occupied  by  the  young 
ladies,  as  well  as  in  all  other  parts  of  the  ruin,  now 
went  toward  the  steps,  to  seek  the  wide  hall  in  which 
Francis  had  found  shelter.  On  the  upper  steps  Herve* 
turned,  and,  as  a  last  cautionary  measure,  looked 
toward  the  isolated  bit  of  wall,  behind  which  the 
lavandieres  had  disappeared  in  so  extraordinary  a  way. 
Herve"  had  himself  selected  the  soldier,  who  was  to 
replace  the  first  sentinel.  This  was  a  young  grenadier 
named  Robert,  whose  courage  and  intelligence  he 
thoroughly  knew.  Robert  was  not  at  his  post,  but 
just  where  he  should  have  stood,  he  saw  something 
white  fluttering,  as  if  some  one  was  anxious  to  attract 
his  attention. 

Herve"  hastily  descended  the  steps,  and  went  toward 
the  wall.  When  he  was  not  more  than  ten  feet  off,  he 
distinguished  the  sentinel,  who  at  once  removed  the 
handkerchief  which  he  had  placed  at  the  end  of  his 
bayonet,  and  contented  himself  with  a  gesture  of  the 
hand,  which  implied  an  entreaty  for  greater  haste,  and 
absolute  caution. 


62  TREACHERY. 

Two  seconds  later,  Herve*  was  close  to  the  vail  and 
face  to  face  with  the  soldier. 

"  Well,  Robert,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  after  a  hasty 
glance  around  to  see  that  there  was  no  danger  of  being 
overheard,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Just  this,  Commandant,"  answered  the  soldier,  in  a 
low  whisper ;  "  you  are  betrayed  !  " 

"  Betrayed  !  And  how  !  By  whom  ?  Speak  I  " 
cried  Herve*. 

"Hush!  Commandant  —  speak  low.  This  is  all  I 
know  :  I  was  walking  up  and  down  peaceably  enough, 
with  my  eyes  on  that  little  grove  over  there,  when  sud- 
denly I  heard,  behind  me  or  under  me,  I  couldn't  say 
which,  a  great  clamor  of  voices.  I  like  to  know  all 
that  is  going  on,  you  know,  so  I  looked  about  a  little, 
and  finally " 

The  soldier  stopped,  a  look  of  terror  passed  over  Li3 
face,  and  Herve*  saw  him  stagger  and  fall  heavily  to 
the  ground.  At  the  same  moment  he  heard  a  shot,  and 
felt  a  blow  on  his  head,  and  he,  too,  fell  b}  the  side  of 
the  sentry. 

Then  a  tall,  athletic  man,  who  had  committed  this 
double  act  of  violence,  with  such  cruel  success,  left  the 
shelter  of  the  wall,  from  whence  he  seemed  to  have 
emerged,  and  examined  the  chateau  with  curious  eyes. 
At  the  same  moment  an  individual. of  more  delicate 
proportions  leaned  over  the  inanimate  body  of  the 
Republican  Commandant,  ajjd  examined  the  wound  od 
bis  head* 


Treachery.  63 

"  He  is  not  seriously  hurt,"  he  said,  in  a  singularly 
rich,  sweet  voice. 

"The  shot  has  been  heard,  and  they  will  all  be  here 
in  a  moment,"  answered  the  other.  "  We  had  hslter 
be  off." 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  he,  followed  by  Lis  com 
panion,  passed  through  an  opening  at  the  base  of  the 
wall,  which  at  once  closed  upon  them,  and  left  not  the 
smallest  clue. 


64  THK     CANONESS     SUSPECTED, 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE     CANONESS     SUSPECTED. 

AT  the  noise  of  the  report,  all  the  soldiers,  guided 
by  Francis,  rushed  toward  the  place  whence  this 
signal  of  alarm  had  come.  The  young  Lieutenant 
uttered  an  agonized  exclamation,  on  seeing  the  inani- 
mate body  of  his  friend ;  but  his  despair  was  calmed 
when,  by  the  light  of  a  torch,  he  failed  to  discover  any 
wound. 

"The  hand  that  struck  that  blow  was  a  stalwart 
one,"  said  Bruidoux,  examining  the  Commandant's  hat, 
which  bore  the  marks  of  a  tremendous  concussion. 
"We  ought  to  be  thankful,  that  he,  whoever  he  was, 
spared  the  life  of  our  Commandant,  and  did  not  shed 
his  blood.,, 

"  But,  sir,  I  am  not  sure  that  he  has  done  so  ;  I  don't 
know  what  this  is  under  my  feet,  but " 

"  Good  heavens ! "  cried  Francis,  dropping  on  his 
knees  by  Herve"s  side,  "can  it  be  possible.  ,  This  is 
horrible ! " 

"  Horrible,  indeed,"  answered  Bruidoux,  in  a  scared 
sort  of  way ;  "  but  the  wounded  man,  or  rather  the 
dead  man,  lies  here.  Yes ;  he  has  mounted  guard  for 
the  last  time,  poor  fellow." 

As  he  spoke,  the  Sergeant,  aided  by  the  soldiers, 


THE     CANON  ESS     SUSPECTED.  65 

fried   to   lift  Robert's  body,  which  had  been  partially 
concealed  by  a  pile  of  stones  near  which  it  lay. 

"Dead!  Are  you  sure  he  is  dead,  Bruidoux  ?  Is 
there  really  nothing  we  can  do  ?  " 

"Nothing,  except  pray  for  him.  The  ball  has  chosen 
the  best  place,  like  a  true  aristocrat,  and  has  lodged  in 
his  heart.  It  is  a  pity,"  continued  Bruidoux,  address- 
ing the  soldiers,  "that  a  tiny  bit  of  lead,  fired  by  a 
miserable  coward,  can  wipe  a  brave  man  off  the  face  of 
the  earth !  I  would  give  my  left  eye,  for  a  brief  inter- 
view with  the  lavandiere  who  pulled  that  trigger.  But, 
citizens,  this  will  never  do ;  our  old  comrade  must  not 
be  left  lying  here.  He  must  have  his  six  foot  bed,  just 
as  much  as  if  he  had  been  born  a  peer  and  a  duke, 
under  the  ancient  regime.  I  loved  this  boy,  my  chil- 
dren !  He  was  a  brave  fellow.  He  hadn't  the  stuff  in 
him,  any  more  than  myself,  for  a  general  in  chief,  but 
around  our  camp  fire,  and  as  we  stood  in  a  line  in 
front  of  the  enemy,  he  was  invaluable.  Hem !  hem ! 
Citizens,  a  tear  may  fall  on  a  gray  moustache,  without 
dishonoring  it,  I  am  sure.  Poor  Robert !  "  and  Brui- 
doux passed  his  sleeve  over  his  eyes. 

The  solemnity  of  the  place  and  the  hour,  the  presence 
of  the  body,  to  whose  features  the  torchlight  imparted 
a  fantastic  semblance  of  life,  and  the  respect  the  soldiers 
felt  for  the  orator,  imparted  great  effect  to  this  funeral 
oration.  The  grenadiers  around  Bruidoux,  gave  little 
nods  of  satisfaction,  as  if  to  say  that  no  soldier  could 
desire  a  warmer  champion  than  their  old  Sergeant. 
5 


66  THE     CANONESS     SUSPECTED. 

All  this  time  Francis  was  doing  his  best  to  recall  hia 
friend  to  life,  but  Herve*  was  not  yet  able  to  reply  to 
the  young  lieutenant's  eager  questions. 

Several  of  the  men,  now  proceeded  to  dig  with  their 
swords  a  grave,  in  which  they  placed  the  remains  of 
their  dead  comrade.  Others,  making  a  litter  of  their 
guns,  started  to  bear  the  Commandant  to  the  chateau. 
They  had  gone  a  little  more  than  half  way,  when 
another  shot  caused  them  to  stop.  Herv^  tried  to  rise, 
but  fell  back  exhausted  by  the  effort.  Francis,  leaving 
two  soldiers  with  the  litter,  dashed  with  the  rest  of  the 
men  in  the  direction  of  the  donjon,  whence  came  to  all 
appearance,  the  sound  of  the  report. 

The  sentinel  placed  at  this  corner  of  the  ruin,  was 
found  at  his  post  reloading  his  gun.  Questioned  by 
Francis  as  to  why  he  had  fired,  he  stated  that  he  had 
seen  a  procession  of  black  and  white  phantoms  emerge 
from  the  base  of  the  acclivity  on  which  the  donjon 
stood.  That  after  he  had  called  out,  "Who  goes 
there  ? "  and  had  received  no  reply,  he  fired ;  and 
here  the  soldier  showed  considerable  emotion,  as  ae 
said :  "  The  earth  seemed  to  open  and  swallow  them, 
for  they  all  disappeared  at  once."  A  thick  fog  rising 
from  a  stream  running  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  was  to 
Francis  a  natural  explanation  of  this  new  disappear- 
ance of  their  enemies.  He  could  not  restrain  an 
exclamation  of  angry  disappointment;  then  with  a 
command  to  the  sentinel,  not  to  relax  his  vigilance  for 
one  single   moment,  he     an  back  to  the  Commandant, 


THE  3AN0NESS  SUSPECTED.     67 

who  by  this  Lme  had  recovered,  and  came  to  meet  him. 
The  two  young  men  exchanged  accounts  of  what  had 
taken  place,  after  bidding  their  men  return  to  their 
rest. 

"I  am  quite  sure,"  said  Hervd,  "that  my  sister 
knows  nothing  of  all  this ;  for  she  assured  me  this  very 
evening,  that  so  far  as  she  knew,  we  were  in  no  sort  of 
danger,  and  she  is  incapable  of  a  falsehood.  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe,  that  we  have  merely  fallen  upon  a 
band  of  Chouans  in  retreat,  and  that  we  have  inter- 
fered with  them.  But  of  course  we  can't  pursue  them 
in  this  fog." 

"Did  you  gather  from  Robert,  that  there  was 
some  understanding  between  these  travellers,  and  the 
mysterious  enemies  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  say  so  precisely — not  in  so  many  words, 
but  he  implied  it.  I  have  no  confidence  myself  in  the 
Canoness,  but  my  sister  must  be  herself -deceived." 

"  I  would  swear  to  that !  "  cried  Francis. 

"I  must  try  and  sleep,"  said  Herve\  "My  head 
gives  me  a  good  deal  of  pain,  and  I  feel  the  need  of 
repose." 

The  two  young  men  separated,  after  agreeing  to  con- 
ceal from  the  women,  including  Andrei,  all  the  events 
of  the  night,  from  a  natural  unwillingness  to  give  some 
of  the  party,  a  cl  ance  to  triumph,  and  to  spare  Andree 
anxiety. 

As  Francis,  after  leaving  the  Commandant,  passed 
the  front  of  the  house,  he  noticed  with  surprise  the 


68  TUE     CANONESS     SUSPECTED. 

absolute  calm  which  continued  to  reign  there.  That  the 
shots  and  the  subsequent  uproar  had  not  awakened  the 
young  girls,  was  one  of  the  sweet  privileges  of  their 
age ;  but  neither  the  Canoness  nor  Kado  could  claim 
so  agreeable  an  excuse.  This  silence  and  imperturba- 
bility, confirmed  the  vague  suspicions  of  the  young 
Lieutenant,  and  inspired  him  with  an  idea  of  vengeance 
which  delighted  him  as  much  as  if  he  had  been  a  school- 
boy. He  stooped  and  picked  up  a  handful  of  stones,  and 
satisfying  himself  that  no  one  was  watching  him,  he 
hurled  these  stones  into  the  window  of  the  Canoness, 
after  which  he  hid  himself  behind  a  wall,  laughing 
softly. 

At  the  sound  of  the  broken  glass  several  soldiers, 
scattered  here  and  there,  lifted  their  heads  anxiously, 
but  the  profound  silence  that  ensued,  caused  them  to 
regard  the  sounds  as  one  of  the  strange  disturbances 
of  the  evening,  and  they  soon  relapsed  into  silence  and 
slumber. 

At  the  same  moment,  Francis  saw  a  shadow  cautiously 
approach  the  window,  and  recognized  the  sharp  features 
of  the  Canoness.  Francis,  pitiless  as  is  youth,  usually, 
stooped  for  another  stone,  but  the  old  lady,  guided  by 
some  guardian  angel,  withdrew,  and  the  second  missile 
was  not  thrown. 

About  three  hours  later,  all  the  soldiers  were  moving 
about,  swinging  their  benumbed  arms,  and  stamping 
their  chilled  feet  on  the  ground.  Kado  was  saddling 
the  horsey  with  Ms  customary  gravity,  while  Hei've*  uad 


flHfc    CAtfOttESS     St?s££Cf£t>.  6t 

Francis,  a  little  apart,  were  engaged  in  some  serious 
discussion.  Sergeant  Bruidoux  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  and  respectfully  approached  the  young  officers, 
lie  touched  his  finger  to  his  hat. 

"  Liberty  and  Fraternity,  citizens  !  "  he  said.  "  You 
Jpok  as  fresh  as  a  lark  this  morning,  Commandant.  I 
am  delighted  to  find  that  you  have  suffered  ho  incon- 
venience from  that  terrible  blow.  Now,  citizens,  do 
you  think  it  advisable,  that  we  should  leave  this  place 
without  finding  out  its  secrets?  " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  was  saying  to  the  Lieutenant," 
Herve*  replied.  "  I  think  we  ought,  now  that  we  have 
daylight  in  our  favor,  hunt  up  the  mystery  of  our 
lavandieres" 

"  I  am  willing,"  cried  Francis,  "  only  we  must  keep 
together.  You  must  not  run  the  risk  again  of  being 
taken  in  a  snare." 

"But  why  the  deuce  do  you  talk  about  a  snare?  " 
answered  'Herve*.  "  Haven't  they  left  the  door  wide 
open  at  the  base  of  the  donjon.  If  it  be  a  snare,  it  is  a 
most  daring  one."  Light  a  torch  for  me,  Bruidoux.  I 
do  not  choose,  Lieutenant,  that  one  of  the  men  shall 
risk  a  hair  in  this  affair.  It  is  enough,  more  than 
enough,  that  it  has  cost  Robert's  death. 

"Permit  me,  citizens,  to  make  a  suggestion,"  said 
Bruidoux,  returning  with  a  lighted  torch  in  one  hand 
and  two  others  under  his  arm.  "Let  us  three  go 
together." 

Herve\  notwithstanding  his  strong  desire  to  visit  this 


70    THE  CAKONESS  SUSPECTED. 

subterranean  retreat  alone,  yielded  to  this  arrangement 
The  three  then  passing  the  donjon  descended  with 
difficulty,  the  abrupt  cliff  which  formed  its  base,  assist- 
ing themselves  by  the  stunted  trees  growing  here 
and  there  between  the  rocks  ;  they  soon  reached  a 
little  door  at  the  foot  of  the  ravine,  seen  from  above 
by  Commandant  Herve*,  but  which  was  arranged 
in  such  a  way,  that  it  could  not  be  detected 
from  any  other  position.  This  door  gave  access  to  a 
narrow,  dark  cavern.  Herve^  a  torch  in  his  hand, 
entered  first,  stooping  as  he  did  so,  and  was  closely 
followed  by  his  two  companions.  At  the  end  of  a  few 
feet,  this  narrow  passage  opened  into  a  large  vaulted 
chamber,  to  which  arches,  still  perfect,  imparted  a 
character  of  sombre  magnificence.  Torches  lay  smoking 
on  the  damp  soil,  and  were  the  only  indication,  that 
human  beings  had  been  recently  near  the  spot.  The 
principal  cave  communicated  by  archways  with  smaller 
rooms,  through  all  of  which,  the  two  young  men  and 
the  Sergeant,  continued  their  search.  Herve*  turned 
his  attention  more  particularly  to  the  portion  of  this 
subterranean  place,  which  corresponded  with  that  wing 
of  the  manor  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  Canoness 
during  the  night.  In  the  corner  of  a  smaller  cavern, 
the  red  light  of  his  torch  suddenly  fell  on  a  staircase, 
which  he  hastily  climbed,  but  on  arriving  at  the  top  he 
found  that  the  last  five  or  six  stairs  had  been  broken 
away,  and  lay  piled  on  the  lower  steps,  thus  leaving  a 
space   which  it  was   impossible  for  him  to  surmount. 


THE     CANONESS     SUSPECTED.  71 

After  a  minute  examination  of  the  debris,  Herv* 
became  convinced  that  they  dated  only  from  the  night, 
and  his  suspicions  of  the  politic  Canoness,  were  strengl  li- 
ened  by  this  discovery.  A  visit  to  the  apartment 
occupied  by  the  old  lady,  would  have  settled  the  point 
in  question,  but  his  education  had  been  such,  that  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  be  guilty  of 
such  an  intrusion. 

Herve*  joined  the  young  aide-de-camp  just  as  the 
youth  had  his  hand  on  an  enormous  bolt  fasten- 
ing a  low,  wide  door.  The  united  efforts  of  the  two 
young  men  were  required  before  the  bolt  would  move. 
At  last  the  door  dropped  like  a  draw-bridge,  and  day- 
light poured  into  the  cave.  They  at  once  recognized 
the  fact,  that  chance  had  led  them  to  the  mysterious 
opening  which  the  evening  before  had  swallowed  up 
the  lavandieres  in  such  an  apropos  manner,  and  which, 
later,  had  given  egress  to  Robert's  murderer.  The 
door  was  formed  of  oak  planks,  covered  within  with 
iron  plates,  and  disguised  outside  with  light  masonry, 
which  made  it  look  precisely  like  the  rest  of  the  wall. 
The  young  men  profited  by  this  door,  to  leave  the  cave, 
but  as  they  placed  their  feet  on  terra  firma,  they  heard 
loud  shouts  from  the  cavern,  and,  rushing  backward, 
they  met  Bruidoux,  dragging  by  the  ear  a  captive  of  a 
most  unexpected  species. 

Hearing  the  shouts  of  the  old  Sergeant,  the  soldiers, 
Kado,  and  the  valiant  group  of  emigree*S  all  ran  toward 
the  wall ;  the  prisoner,  amid  this  curious  circle,  stood 


72  THE     CANONESS     SUSTECTED. 

rubbing  his  eyes,  as  if  dazzled  by  the  sudden  sunlight 
He  was  a  child,  certainly  not  more  than  ten  years  of 
ago,  with  blue  eyes  and  a  gentle  charming  face.  His 
black  hair — cut  square  across  his  brow — lay  on  his 
shoulders  behind;  he  wore  a  long  coat  of  some  brown, 
woolen  material,  and  puffed  breeches. 

At  the  first  glance,  Herve  recognized  this  child,  and 
then  turned  a  reproachful  look  on  Kado,  to  which  the 
guide  replied,  by  an  almost  imperceptible  sign,  express- 
ing volumes  of  regret  and  pain.  The  women,  at  the 
same  time,  exchanged  stealthy  glances  of  fear  and 
confusion. 

"  This  boy,  Commandant,  belongs  to  the  lavandieres 
of  course.  His  mamma  must  have  forgotten  him.  I 
spoke  to  him  writh  all  the  politeness  in  the  world,  but 
the  fellow  seemed  to  be  a  stranger  to  the  manners  and 
customs  of  a  salon,  and  was  as  mute  as  a  fish/'  While 
the  Sergeant  was  speaking,  the  child  was  looking 
around  with  astonished  eyes,  then  folding  his  arms 
behind  his  back,  he  said,  with  a  naivete,  most  perfectly 
acted,  if  it  wTere  not  sincere:  "  Oh !  what  fine  gentle- 
men and  what  beautiful  ladies!  Good  morning  all! 
What  are  such  people  as  you,  doing  in  this  wild 
country  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  yourself,  you  rascal  ? ' 
cried  Bruidoux ;  "  upon  my  life  I  should  not  be  sur 
prised  if  you  asked  us  for  our  papers ! " 

The  last  doubts  that  Heive*  had  cherished  as  to  the 
duplicity  with  which  he  was  treated,  vanished  at  the  sight 


THE     CANONESS     SUSPECTED.  73 

of  the  well-known  features  of  this  child,  but  he  was  so 
touched  by  the  anguish  he  read  on  Kado's  pale  con- 
tracted features,  that  he  was  deterred  from  profiting  by 
his  discovery. 

k*  My  little  friend,"  he  said  to  the  child,  "  you  are 
too  intelligent  looking,  to  play  with  any  success,  the 
part  you  have  adopted.  You  are  not  under  witted,  as 
3'ou  would  have  us  believe,  and  you  had  best  tell  us 
the  truth  without  reservation,  or  your  tender  years 
will  not  save  you  from  the  punishment  you  deserve. 
You  have  passed  the  night  with  people,  whom  we  have 
more  than  one  reason  for  regarding  as  enemies." 

"I  should  say  so,"  muttered  Bruidoux,  "when  a  fist 
like " 

"  Silence,  Sergeant,"  said  Herve".  "  Come  now,  my 
child,  who  brought  you  here  ?  " 

"  It  was  La  Groac'h,"  said  the  boy,  "  La  Groac'h  of 
the  valley." 

"  La  Groac'h,"  interrupted  Bruidoux,  "  was  it  La 
Groac'h  that  drew  the  trigger?" 

M  Citizen  Sergeant,"  said  Herve*  with  considerable 
energy,  "let  us  not  pursue  this  farce,  it  is  a  mere  waste 
of  time.  Search  him  at  once.  This  child  has  been 
sacrificed  by  older  persons,  and  shall  pay  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes." 

"  Go  ahead,"  said  the  boy,  laughing,  "  the  Fairy  will 
look  out  for  me.  Between  ourselves,  gentlemen,  I  will 
confess  to  you  that  she  is  my  wife." 

"  And  this  was  her  wedding  present  I  presume,"  said 


74  THE     CANOXESS     SUSPECTED. 

Bruidoux  grimly,  as  he  took  from  the  pocket  of  the 
youthful  prisoner,  a  top  and  ball  of  cord.  "  You  would 
have  shown  more  sense,  my  lad,  had  you  contented  your- 
self with  this  amusement,  which,  as  you  know,  citizens, 
is  not  a  potentate's  diversion,  but  a  joy  to  the  masses." 

As  he  talked  the  old  Sergeant  wound  the  cord  evenly 
about  the  top,  and  then  launched  it  on  the  ground, 
watching  its  evolutions  with  a  paternal  smile. 

The  women,  in  the  meanwhile,  were  preparing  to 
mount  their  horses.  Kado  went  toward  the  Command- 
ant, and  as  he  arranged  the  stirrup  Herv^  leaned  toward 
him  and  whispered : 

"  You  are  well  punished,  Kado,  for  deceiving  me,  and 
I  am  equally  so,  for  having  believed  in  you." 

Kado  started,  and  answered  with  eyes  cast  on  the 
ground : 

"Yes,  sir,  I  know,  you  have  been  kind  to  the  boy 
Shall  you  take  the  poor  little  fellow  with  you?  " 

"  If  I  did  my  duty,  Kado,  I  should  take  the  father 
with  the  son." 

"  The  child  is  far  from  strong,  master.  I  like  to  look 
at  him,  for  his  dead  mother  and  he,  are  exactly  alike. 
Some  people  think  Alix  like  me,  but  the  boy  is  his  moth- 
er's breathing  image.  He  is  very  delicate,  Master,  and 
can't  stand  a  prison,  sir." 

Kado's  voice  broke,  he  carried  his  hand  to  his  throat 
as  if  suffocating. 

"Kado,"  said  Herve*,  "I  have  allowed  myself  to  be 
influenced  by  feelings  and  recollections,  to  which  you, 


THE     CAKOXESS     SUSPECTED.  ?5 

apparently,  have  attached  little  importance.  Can  you, 
and  will  you,  confess  all,  before  these  men  ?  That  is, 
will  you  make  a  full  confession  ?  " 

The  Breton,  after  looking  around  him  with  sad  inde- 
cision, raised  one  hand  to  Heaven,  and  said  in  a  firm 
tone: 

"  The  child  is  in  the  hands  of  God." 

"  Forward  !  March !  "  cried  Herve\ 

"  Commandant,"  said  Bruidoux,  leading  the  boy  by 
the  collar,  "  what  am  I  to  do  with  this  boy  ?  He  is  as 
spry  as  a  monkey,  and  will  be  off  like  the  wind,  in 
search  of  his  wife." 

"He  is  in  your  charge,  Sergeant,  you  are  responsible 
for  him." 

"In  that  case,  come  here  my  boy!"  said  Bruidoux, 
drawing  forth  a  long  rope  from  his  coat  pocket.  One 
end  he  passed  around  his  own  waist,  the  other  he 
attached  to  that  of  his  young  captive,  and  in  that 
style,  overtook  the  detachment  as  it  wound  down  th8 
hill  amid  the  mon.ing  mists. 


W  fflE     WHITE     FEAfltEfi. 

CHAPTER    V. 

THE    WHITE    FEATHER. 

DOES  not  the  terrible  burthen  of  life  seem  some- 
what easy  to  carry,  when,  under  a  blue  and 
cloudless  sky,  one  rides  along,  past  freshly  blooming 
hedges,  drinking  in  the  delicious  air?  In  such  brief 
moments  one  realizes  the  delight  of  living,  and  is 
grateful  for  having  been  born.  But  does  a  man  overr 
take  you,  who  talks  of  politics  and  elections,  the 
charm  is  broken ! 

These  sensations  were  depicted  on  the  faces  of  our 
travellers.  Herve*,  and  the  old  guide,  alone  looked 
anxious  and  careworn.  Herve*  rode  in  front  questioning 
his  conscience.  After  all  that  had  passed,  he  no  longer 
entertained  a  doubt  as  to  the  nature  of  the  perfidy 
by  which  he  had  suffered.  It  was  clearly  his  duty  to 
refuse  further  protection  to  persons  who  could  so  take 
advantage  of  him.  Each  onward  step  made  him  an 
accomplice  in  a  treason,  the  nature  of  which  he  was 
still  ignorant,  certain  as  he  was  of  its  existence.  How 
could  he  ever  interrogate  with  the  severity  of  a  judge 
and  an  enemy,  these  women  to  whom  he  was  allied 
by  such  cherished  recollections — no  !  this  task  was  far 
beyond  his  strength.  To  do  this,  were  also  to  open 
the  eyes  of  his  men  to  a  duplicity  which  had  cost 


THE     WHITE     FEATHER.  77 

#nc  of  their  comrades  his  life.  It  was  to  abandon  these 
*megrees  to  the  rigor  of  the  law.  Andred,  too,  would 
be  involved  in  the  consequent  perils,  and  he  would 
therefore  be  endangering  his  own  sister.  Herve',  not- 
withstanding his  stern  principles,  was  not  quite  enough 
of  a  stoic,  to  burthen  his  soul  with  an  act  which  polit- 
ical enthusiasm  might  laud,  but  which  every  man  would 
stigmatize  as  infamous  in  his  heart.  To  escape  these 
anxieties,  Herv6*  decided  on  continuing  the  journey 
as  far  as  Kergant,  without  bringing  up  the  subject, 
but  determined,  also,  that  on  his  arrival  there,  he 
would  lay  all  the  details  before  his  General.  Relieved 
by  this  determination,  Herve'  was  at  last  able  to  think 
once  more  Of  the  feather  which  the  wind  had  brought 
to  his  feet  from  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant's  window. 
He  had  puzzled  his  brain  to  discover  its  meaning. 
He  was  certain  that  the  plume  belonged  to  Bellah,  as 
a  swift  glance  at  the  young  lady's  elegant  hat,  showed 
him  that  it  had  lost  its  crowning  decoration.  This 
conviction  was  at  first  decisive,  but  presently  he  dis- 
covered, to  his  discomfiture,  that  Andrew's  hat  was  also 
vithout  its  feather,  and  this  again  involved  the  point 
la  doubt. 

Andred,  who  had  noticed  this  cursory  examination 
on  the  part  of  her  brother,  wheeled  her  horse  around 
until  she  rode  close  at  his  side. 

44  Is  not  this  morning  delicious?"  she  cried,  "but 
what  a  singular  hat  it  pleases  you  to  wear,  Command- 
ant P    At  these  words,  lime,  who  was  not  altogether 


78  THE     WHITE     FEATHER. 

satisfied  with  his  little  sister,  began  to  whistle  and 
touched  his  spur  to  his  horse,  but  Andree*  was  not  the 
woman  to  accept  this  as  a  reply. 

"Commandant,"  she  repeated,  "you  have  a  most 
singular  hat." 

"And  in  what  respect  is  it  singular?  "  asked  Herve\ 
seeing  that  he  must  answer. 

"It  is  so  flat!  Why  do  you  not  put  a  plume  in 
it?" 

The  word  plume  was  precisely  the  one  of  all  others 
which  at  that  moment  hovered  on  Herve"s  lips. 

"Plume,"  he  repeated,  mechanically,  in  a  half 
whisper. 

"  Plume  !  "  cried  Andrei  in  high  delight. 

"  How  did  you  sleep  last  night  ?  "  asked  Herve\ 

"Not  badly,  Commandant,  or  rather,  it  would  not 
have  been  a  bad  night,  had  I  not  been  bothered  by  a 
persistent  dream,  all  about  a  plume  !  " 

"  By  the  way,  child,"  said  her  brother,  "  what  have 
you  done  with  your  own  ?  " 

"Bless  me!  Is  it  not  in  my  hat?  No,  I  remember 
the  wind  bore  it  away  last  night." 

"  And  was  the  wind  equally  courteous  to  ■  your 
friend?" 

"  Ah !  '*'  cried  the  girl,  with  a  gay  laugh.  "  I  have 
you  now.  No,  the  wind  carried  off  but  one,  and  you 
must  guess  which.  This,  citizen,  is  precisely  what  I 
have  sworn  not  to  disclose,  because  were  I  to  tell  you, 
Commandant,  you  would  be  too  happy  !  " 


THE     WHITE     FEATHER.  ?9 

And  Andrei,  as  she  finished  this  sentence,  rushed 
like  the  wind,  back  to  her  companions. 

Commandant  HervS,  now  abandoned  himself  to 
happy  visions,  and  Lieutenant  Francis,  studied  the 
iharming  sister  of  his  friend,  from  out  the  corner  of 
his  eyes.  So  great  was  the  interest  of  the  youth  in 
'this  new  study,' that  Mademoiselle  Pelven  would  have 
discovered  it,  even  if  her  powers  of  observation  had 
been  limited.  Women  easily  make  these  discoveries, 
and  if  the  observer,  may  be  classed  among  the  enemies 
of  the  observed,  the  lady's  enjoyment  of  her  conquest,  is 
greatly  heightened.  The  graceful,  slender  figure  of  the 
young  Lieutenant,  his  dashing,  impulsive  movements, 
the  care  with  which  the  delicate  moustache  was 
trimmed,  and  his  debonnaire  way  of  placing  his  hat  a 
little  on  one  side,  gave  him  a  jaunty,  page-like  aspect, 
that  was  very  taking.  Mademoiselle  Andree*  like  most 
young  girls  feeling  themselves  to  be  regarded  with 
especial  attention,  was  more  than  usually  silent  and 
quiet  for  a  time,  but  all  at  once  she  seemed  to  be 
taken  possession  of,  by  a  very  demon  of  loquacity. 

Francis  in  the  meantime  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  time  for  him  to  declare  his  sentiments.  He 
spurred  on  his  horse,  passed  and  repassed  Henre*  as  if 
excreting  his  steed,  and  finally  disappeared  from  view 
for  some  ten  minutes.  He  came  back  at  full  gallop, 
concealing  a  bouquet  of  the  wild  flowers,  over  which 
he  had  heard  Andree*  go  into  ecstasies,  a  few  minutes 
before.      Fortunately,  Andree"  was  at  this  time,  some 


80  THE      WHITE     FEATHER. 

little  distance  in  front  of  the  Canoness  ;  Francis  drew 
in  his  reins  as  he  reached  the  girl's  side. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  as  he  presented  his  bouquet, 
"your  brother  sends  you  this." 

The  falsehood  was  apparent,  and  if  Andree  had  time 
to  realize  this,  the  young  man  was  lost ;  but  the  won- 
derful temerity,  not  unusual  to  lovers  of  the  age  of 
Francis,  often  enables  them  to  profit  by  the  surprise 
occasioned  by  their  audacity.  Andree  hardly  knowing 
what  she  did,  took  the  flowers  with  confused  thanks. 

It  may  readily  be  imagined  by  my  readers,  that  this 
was  a  scene  which  the  Canoness  could  not  contemplate 
with  careless  eyes.  She  trotted  on  to  join  the  young 
lady,  the  perfumed  powder  flying  from  her  hair  in 
little  clouds:  fixing  her  eyes  on  Andree's  troubled  face, 
she  said  in  a  voice  that  indicated  a  tempest  in  the  air : 

"  May  I  ask  what  song  this  patriotic  troubadour  is 
singing  in  your  ear  ?  " 

"  He  was  entreating  me,  Madame,"  answered  Andree*, 
44  to  offer  you  this  bouquet,  as  he  had  not  the  courage 
to  do  so  for  himself,  so  impressed  is  he  by  the  dignity — 
yes,  dignity — that  was  the  word — of  your  face." 

During  these  words,  the  flowers  had  passed  from 
Andrew's  dainty,  rose-tipped  fingers,  to  the  withered 
hand  of  the  Canoness.  Francis  drove  his  spurs  into 
his  horse,  which  reared  violently,  and  came  very  near 
throwing  him. 

44  Young  man  !  "  called  the  old  lady.  44  Bless  me,  how 
am  I  to  accost  such  people.    My  friend  !    Lieutenant! ' 


THE     WHITE     FEATHER.  81 

"Say,  Citizen,  Madame,"  mu no uved  Andree\ 

"Citizen!"  cried  the  Canoness,  then  seeing  as  the 
officer  came  nearer,  how  singularly  handsome  he  was, 
she  said,  less  authoritatively. 

"  My  child,  where  did  you  learn  such  respect  for 
women?" 

"  From  my  mother,"  answered  Francis. 

"  That  was  well  said,"  replied  the  Canoness,  "  and  I 
shall  keep  your  bouquet.  You  wandered  early  from 
the  right  path,  my  poor  boy." 

"  Not  so,  Madame,  for  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting 

you." 

44  This  is  really  very  extraordinary ! "  replied  the 
old  lady.  M  How  happens  it  that  a  young  man,  so  well 
born  as  you  seem  to  have  been,  should  have  found 
himself  among  these  sanguinary  ruffians?" 

"  Of  the  National  Convention  !  "  interrupted  Francis. 

"Because,  Madame,  I  love  fighting,  and  surely,  it 
is  more  natural  for  me  to  like  to  fight  for  my  own 
jountry  than  for  any  other. " 

"  Unhappy  boy !"  cried  the  Canoness;  "your  judg 
me nt  lias  been  perverted  by  grand  words,  before  you 
were  old  enough  to  understand  their  sense.  But  with 
your  mother,  how  was  it  with  her  ?  you  spoke  of  her— 

"Yes,  I  spoke  of  her,  but  with  your  permission,  we 
will  say  no  more  about  her,"  answered  Francis,  hastily. 

As  he  spoke  he  drooped  his  eyelids,  as  waxen  and 
heavily-fringed  as  those  of  a  woman,  just  in  time  to 
prevent  the  tears  from  falling. 
6 


82  THE     WHITE     FEATHER. 

A  moment  of  silence  followed  this  involuntary  evi- 
dence of  a  mysterious  sorrow.  Then  Andree*  spoke 
with  a  gayety  belied  by  the  moisture  on  her  cheeks. 

"  What  is  that  delicious  odor,  Aunt?"  she  said,  and 
as  she  spoke,  she  took  from  the  bouquet  two  or  three 
flowers,  which  she  took  care  not  to  return  after  breath- 
ing their  fragrance.  Francis  recognized  this  act  with 
a  grateful  look,  that  covered  the  brow  of  the  young 
girl  with  a  deep  blush.  At  this  moment  a  summons 
from  Herve*,  compelled  the  young  officer  to  leave  the 
ladies,  which  Andrde  was  not  for  the  moment  disposed 
to  regret. 

The  country  through  which  the  party  was  travelling, 
had  by  degrees  totally  changed  its  appearance.  The 
naked  hill-sides  and  summits  had  disappeared.  The 
roads  ran  regularly  between  green  hedges,  magnificent 
trees  stood  here  and  there  in  the  meadows,  of  which 
the  hedges  marked  the  boundaries.  Clumps  of  apple 
trees,  flushed  with  rosy  bloom,  charmed  the  eyes.  At 
the  noise  of  the  horses'  feet,  great  oxen  put  their  heads 
through  the  hedges,  and  contemplated  the  travellers 
with  a  meditative  aspect.  An  occasional  low-roofed 
house,  covered  with  moss  and  lichens,  was  seen  among 
the  trees,  and  sometimes  a  cluster  of  houses  stood 
together  on  the  plain,  and  among  them  a  spire  pointed 
out  the  village  church. 

But  the  sense  of  peace  and  happiness,  awakened  by 
this  country  scene,  was  greatly  marred  by  the  frequent 
ruins — by  masses  of  half -burned  rubbish — or  by  long 


THE     WHITE     FEATHER.  8S 

rows  of  graves.  The  rich  soil  did  its  best  to  cover 
with  flowers  and  sweet  mosses,  the  traces  of  crime  and 
sorrow,  but  the  fields  were  untilled.  Those '  who 
should  have  cultivated  them,  lay  beneath  the  sod. 
Occasionally  the  travellers  'heard  a  sob  or  the  murmur 
of  voices,  and  saw  women  and  children  kneeling  and 
praying — living  effigies  upon  unknown  tombs !  Trunks 
of  trees  lay  across  the  road,  branches  were  broken  off, 
and  apertures  appeared  in  the  thick  hedges.  The 
strange  color  of  the  mud  in  the  ditches  by  the  way- 
side, and  the  trampled  turf,  all  denoted  at  intervals, 
the  theatre  of  one  of  those  struggles,  where  the  glory 
of  the  conquerer,  whomsoever  he  might  be,  was  lost 
in  the  horror  of  the  fratricide. 

44  You  must  admit,  Commandant,"  said  Francis, 
suddenly  breaking  the  sad  silence ;  "  you  must  admit, 
that  civil  war,  is  a  terrible  thing." 

44  Say  war,  Francis,  civil  or  not  civil.  Do  you  think 
that  a  misfortune  here,  is  not  one  there  ?  The  crime, 
if  it  be  a  crime,  does  not  surely  stop  at  the  milestone 
which  marks  our  frontier.  Do  you  think  that  grief 
and  curses,  are  less  bitter,  or  less  legitimate,  because 
they  are  expressed  in  a  tongue  that  is  not  your  own  ? 
It  has  required  centuries  to  master  a  very  simple  idea. 
Men  are  beginning  to  call  a  duel  between  man  and 
man,  an  absurd  prejudice;  the  duel  of  nations  is  only 
an  application  of  the  same  principle  on  a  grand  scale. 
If  we  accept  the  Christian  doctrine,  that  all  mankind 
are  one  great  family,  then  all  wars  are  civil  wars,  and 
barbaric  extravagance." 


84  THE     WHITE     FEATHER. 

"And  yet  you  are  a  soldier!  '  said  Francis,  looking 
with  some  wonder  at  Herve*. 

"  The  moment  that  a  truth  becomes  clear  to  us,  is 
\iot  always  the  auspicious  moment  for  announcing  it," 
inswered  the  youthful  Commandant. 
1     "  At  all  events,  Monsieur  Herve*,  this  terrible  war  is 
dver  now,  is  it  not? " 

"Yes,  for  a  few  days,  perhaps  only  for  a  few  hours,'1 
answered  Herve*,  with  melancholy  bitterness. 

It  may  be  advisable  to  touch  here,  on  those  facts 
upon  which  this  opinion  of  the  young  Commandant 
was  founded,  and  which  was  so  justified  by  subse- 
quent events.  The  treaties  of  La  Launaye  and 
of  Saint  -  Florent,  signed  successively  by  Clarette, 
Cormatin  and  Stofflet,  appeared,  it  is  true,  to  have 
included  in  its  terms,  all  the  insurgent  districts  — 
Aragon,  Bretagne  and  La  Haute  Vended ;  but  the 
Republican  generals  knew  only  too  well,  how  incessant 
were  the  intrigues  of  the  Royalist  agents  in  Paris  and 
London,  and  were  convinced  that  the  proposed  armis- 
tice, was  merely  to  augment  the  divisions  in  the  ranks  of 
the  rebels,  and  to  cause  the  peasants  to  lose  soldier-like 
habits  they  had  acquired,  by  tempting  them  to  return 
to  their  peaceful  duties  and  labors.  On  the  other  side, 
the  very  exercise  of  the  advantages  offered  to  the  Roy- 
alists in  these  treaties  would  have  been  quite  enough 
to  awaken  distrust  of  the  chiefs  of  that  party,  even  if 
they  had  been  more  sincere,  than  historical  evidence 
allowed  them   to   suppose.      The   amnesty  had   been 


THE     WHITE     FEAfHER,  85 

anquestionably  proposed  and  accepted,  in  reciprocal 
good  faith,  but  there  was  a  wheel  within  a  wheel,  a 
rebellion  within  the  heart  of  the  Republic.  There 
were  secret  and  almost  incredible  concessions,  among 
which  was  the  promise  to  deliver  the  young  Louis 
XVII.  to  the  chiefs  armed  in  his  name ;  the  credulity 
of  the  Vendean  diplomates  can  hardly  be  conceived,  if 
we  did  not  know,  that  while  they  pretended  to  accept 
all  the  conditions  seriously,  they  in  reality  estimated 
them  at  their  real  value.  This  peace,  therefore,  was, 
in  the  opinion  of  those  who  had  created  it,  a  mere  sus- 
pension of  arms,  which  both  parties  believed  to  be  to 
their  interest,  and  yet  we  are  certain,  that  some  of  the 
Royalist  chiefs,  regarded  as  serious,  the  most  incredible 
among  the  obligations  imposed  by  these  treaties. 

It  is  necessary  to  recall  this  detail  of  the  history 
of  this  time,  to  enable  our  readers  to  understand  our 
tale,  but  we  do  not  wish  it  to  be  supposed,  that  we 
claim  any  historical  value  for  our  romance ;  we  simply 
desire  to  commit  no  anachronism,  and  to  reproduce  the 
manners  and  the  customs,  of  the  epoch  of  which  we 
write. 

The  travellers  halted  in  a  village,  and  took  an  hour 
to  rest  and  dine,  then  resumed  their  journe}r,  travelling 
until  night,  without  any  other  incident  than  passing 
several  Republican  encampments,  with  which  pass- 
words were  exchanged.  Night  was  coming  on,  the 
hills  stood  dark  against  the  horizon,  when  the  timid 
Colibri  said  to  the  courteous  Bruidoux: 


86  1  It  E     WIIITE     FEATnEft. 

w>  A  iii  1  wrong,  Sergeant,  when  I  say  that  in  America* 
most  of  the  men  are  monkeys  ?  " 

The  Sergeant  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  so  much 
pnergy,  that  the  poor  little  captive  at  the  other  end  of 
'  .he  rope  was  greatly  startled. 

"Come  on,  you  little  rascal!"  shouted  Bruidoux  ; 
"  and  as  for  you,  Colibri,  let  me  tell  you  that  the 
notions  you  have  formed  of  America,  and  its  inhabi- 
tants, will  cause  you  to  be  mistaken  for  an  ass  in  that 
distinguished  society.  Come  on,  boy  !  If  you  pull  at 
lie  rope  in  that  way,  you  may  chance  to  discover  that 
my  foot  is  not  fairy-like  in  its  proportions.  There  are 
no  such  things  as  monkeys,  Colibri  ;  they  are  fabu- 
lous beasts,  invented  by  priests  and  tyrants  to  humil- 
iate mankind.  America,  Colibri — you  are  pulling  at 
the  rope,  boy!  America,  as  I  was  saying, —  boy!  if 
you  don't  let  me  talk  in  comfort,  I  will  shake  the  life 
out  of  you!  Ah  !  That  is  right;  now  we  go  easy.  A 
man,  Colibri,  can,  if  he  has  common  sense  —  Ha! 
Where  is  that  little  Chouan  devil!  He  has  cut  the 
rope.  Catch  the  prisoner!  —  there  he  goes,  in  that 
meadow  to  the  right !  " 

The  child  had  in  fact  achieved  the  escape  of  which 
he  had  been  dreaming,  having  undoubtedly  secured  the 
means  of  doing  so  while  at  dinner,  and  had  waited  for 
the  dusk  to  carry  out  his  design.  He  was  running 
at  breathless  speed  across  the  meadow,  separated 
from  the  highway  by  a  ditch  and  a  hedge,  both  of 
which  Bruidoux  leaped  without  hesitation,  the  soldiers 


THE      WHITE     FEATHER.  87 

following  with  wild  shouts.  But  while  they  were  still 
ill  the  centre  of  the  field,  the  child  h*d  reached  the 
other  end,  very  near  a  thick  wood.  He  turned  when 
he  gained  this  point,  and  saw  that  he  was  master  of 
the  situation,  and  made  a  little  sign  as  if  he  wished  to 
speak.     A  dozen  guns  were  at  once  pointed  at  him. 

"Down  with  your  guns,"  cried  Bruidoux,  breath- 
lessly; "are  we  murderers  of  children?     Speak,  child." 

"  Take  good  care  of  my  top,"  called  out  the  lad  over 
his  shoulder,  as  he  disappeared  in  the  wood. 

"  Well !  well ! "  said  Bruidoux,  as  he  returned  to 
the  road,  amid  the  ill-concealed  laughter  of  his  com- 
rades ;  "  if  this  is  not  a  great  joke  !  Your  top,  you 
little  villain,"  added  the  old  Sergeant  between  his  teeth. 
"  May  I  live  to  meet  j ou  with  a  beard  on  your  chin, 
and  if  I  don't  make  you  swallow  your  top  with  all  its 
cord—" 

"Well,  Sergeant,"  interrupted  Herve',  taking  little 
trouble  to  conceal  his  satisfaction  at  the  turn  of  affairs, 
"  is  this  the  way  you  allow  Royalists,  to  slip  through 
your  fingers  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word,  Commandant,"  muttered  the  Ser- 
geant, sulkily,  "  if  you  mean  that  I  ought  to  have 
allowed  my  men  to  shoot  that  mite,  you  may  put  five 
balls  through  my  head,  and  say  no  more  about  it,  for  I 
roally  could  not  see  it  in  that  light." 

"  Nor  could  I,  old  Bruidoux,"  answered  Herve' ;  "  I 
know  very  well  what  you  would  have  done,  had  you 
been  dealing  with  a  man.      As  to  women  and  children. 


88  THE      WHITE     FEATHER. 

we  must  leave  them  to  the  jailers  and  executioners, 
who  dishonor  the  Republic." 

The  brave  Sergeant,  completely  rehabilitated  in  the 
eyes  of  his  inferiors,  by  the  words  of  the  young  Com- 
mandant, loosened  the  knots  of  the  now  useless  ropes, 
and  informed  his  men,  that  he  should  remember  their 
indiscreet  gayety,  and  should  remind  them  of  it  when 
they  least  expected  it.  He  was  interrupted  in  this 
amusement  by  Kado,  who  handed  him  his  drinking 
flask,  saying  with  great  cordiality : 

"  We  may  not  have  the  same  opinions  on  many  sub- 
jects, comrade,  but  all  I  have  in  the  world,  is  at  the 
service  of  a  man  whose  heart  is  filled  with  compassion 
for  the  weak." 

The  Sergeant  seemed  both  surprised  and  pleased  at 
this  overture,  and  drank  from  the  flask  with  considera- 
ble eagerness.  Then  returning  it  to  the  Breton,  he 
said  gravely, 

"All  brave  men  have  the  same  ideas  on  certain 
subjects." 

The  march  was  now  resumed,  and  under  the  com- 
bined influences  of  night  and  fatigue,  silence  was  long 
unbroken  in  the  column.  Herve*,  noticing  that  Andree" 
wavered  more  than  once  in  her  saddle,  as  if  overcome 
wTith  sleep,  rode  close  at  her  side,  and  watched  her 
solicitously.  The  girl,  feeling  the  supporting  arm  of 
her  brother,  yielded  to  the  rocking  motion  of  her  horse 
and  fell  asleep.  She  did  not  awaken  until  a  distant 
clock  struck  eleven.  Andree*  listened  breathlessly  and 
uttered  a  little  exclamation. 


THE      WHITE      F  E  A  T  II  E  K .  g9 

>Bellah!  "  she  cried,  "that  is  our  clock  at  Kcrgant, 
the  chapel  clock.     Let  me  go  on,  brother  !  " 

And  without  waiting  for  his  reply,  the  eager  child 
galloped  off  down  a  long  shady  avenue,  at  the  end  of 
which  the  lights,  twinkling  through  the  trees,  looked 
almost  like  glow-worms. 

The  Seignoral  manor  of  Kergant  was  almost  cloistral 
in  its  construction  and  appearance.  It  presented  the 
form  of  a  triangle,  each  side  of  which  ended  in  a  tall 
tower  with  a  pointed  roof. 

The  foundations  were  protected  by  a  moat,  but  a 
permanent  bridge  had  taken  the  place  of  the  old  fash- 
ioned draw-bridge,  and  gave  access  to  the  large  central 
door.  The  little  chapel,  whose  clock  had  just  sounded 
the  hour,  stood  on  the  right  of  the  chateau,  on  a  gentle 
elevation.  Several  other  buildings,  doing  duty  as  farm 
houses  and  stables,  contributed  with  the  chapel,  to 
frame  in  the  square,  lying  in  front  of  the  manor,  which 
did  duty  as  a  courtyard.  In  the  centre  of  this  square, 
several  servants  with  torches  in  their  hands,  listened 
with  respect,  to  the  orders  given  them  by  a  man  whose 
hair  was  whitened  by  years,  but  whose  tall  form  was 
as  erect,  and  the  muscles  of  his  manly  face  as  firm  as 
of  yore.  The  Marquis  de  Kergant  was  as  usual,  all  in 
black,  he  wore  crape  on  his  left  arm,  and  a  similar  em- 
blem of  mourning  was  attached  to  the  handle  of  the 
hunting-knife  at  his  side.  * 

Andree*  and  Bellah  dismounted  at  the  same  moment, 
and  the  Marquis  pressed  them  both  to  his  heart.  The 
Canonets   then    approached,     embraced    her    brother 


90  TIIE     WniTE     FEATHER 

affectionately,  and  said  a  few  words  in  a  low  voice 
to  him.      The  old  Marquis  went  toward  the    ScotoF 
soubrette  and  bowing  with  great  politeness,  pointea 
to  the  chateau. 

The  daughter  of  the  MacGregor  offered  her  arm  to 
the  Canoness,  and  the  two  moved  toward  the  chateau. 

"  Go  with  them,  my  daughters,"  said  the  Marquis, 
"  you  must  be  dead  with  fatigue." 

"  Excuse  me,  dear  father,"  interrupted  Andree*  in  a 
coaxing  tone,  "but  we  did  not  come  alone,  some 
one "  she  hesitated. 

"Goon,  my  child,"  answered  the  Marquis,  "your 
brother's  room  is  ready." 

Andree*  pressed  her  lips  to  the  hand  of  her  adopted 
father,  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  retired  with  her 
sister.  Monsieur  de  Kergant  followed  the  young  girls 
as  far  as  the  bridge  over  the  moat.  There  he  stood  still, 
with  his  servants  behind  him,  and  waited.  At  this 
moment  the  Republican  detachment  entered  the  court- 
yard. Herve*  leaped  to  the  ground,  and  went  toward 
the  Marquis,  struggling  to  restrain  all  evidences  of  emo- 
tion. Francis  and  the  soldiers  followed  at  a  respectful 
distance. 

When  Herve*  was  within  a  few  paces  of  the  Marquis, 
ne  took  off  his  hat,  and  saluted  the  old  gent1  eman  with 
profound  respect. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  Marquis  de  Kergant,  "  I  am  deeply 
indebted  to  you." 

"I  only  wish,  sir.  that  T  merited  your  thanks," 
replied  Herve\  "  I  am  afraiu - 


THE     WHITE     FEATHER.  91 

"  Be  sure,  citizen  Commandant,  since  that  is  your 
title,"  returned  the  Marquis,  "that  I  am  not  one  of 
those  persons,  whose  hearts  contradict  that  which  their 
lips  utter.  Permit  me  to  offer  to  the  Comte  de  Pelven, 
hospitality  for  ;he  night." 

Hervd  was  surprised  and  offended  by  the  bitter  and 
haughty  tone,  in  which  these  words  were  spoken. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  w  I  am  compelled  to  ask  the 
same  favor  for  my  Lieutenant,  and  my  soldiers." 

"And  these  gentlemen  would  take  it  in  case  of 
refusal  I  fancy." 

"  I  beg,  sir " 

"  I  am  curious  to  know,"  interrupted  the  Marquis, 
"  because  I  took  an  oath,  never  to  allow  any  one  of  the 
butchers  of  your  so-called  Republic,  to  step  his  foot 
under  my  roof,  and  I  can  only  break  my  oath,  in  favor 
of  the  son  of  your  father." 

At  these  exasperating  words,  an  angry  murmur  broke 
from  the  soldiers,  but  Herve"  imposed  silence  on  them 
by  a  gesture,  and  then  turning  toward  the  Marquis,  he 
said : 

"  May  I  ask,  sir,  if  you  took  this  oath  on  the  same 
d.iy  that  you  signed  a  treaty  with  our  representatives, 
and  accepted  the  amnesty  of  our  so-called  Republic?" 

"No  !"  cried  Monsieur  de  Kergant,  "  I  took  it  on  the 
day,  that  you  stained  your  flag,  with  the  blood  of  your 
King,  and  I  renewed  it  on  the  day  that  I  learned  of 
your  last  cowardly  act.  Indeed,  it  was  yesterday  that  I 
henrd  how  the  son  of  the  Martyr  had  been  murdered  in 


92'  THE     WHITE     FEAT  HE  A. 

his  prison.  The  treaty  now  counts  for  nothing,  we  arc 
no  longer  at  peace.  Enough  !  come  in,  Citizen  Herve*, 
and  have  no  fears,  but  ask  nothing  more  at  my  hands.'1 

"You  can  not  really  suppose  that  I  would  accept 
such  hospitality,"  answered  Herve\  with  a  smile,  the 
calm  politeness  of  which  brought  a  flush  to  the  brow 
of  the  old  gentleman.  "As  I  find  myself  on  an  ene- 
my's soil,  I  shall  pass  my  night  as  a  soldier  should. 
Come,  my  children,  we  will  bivouac  together." 

The  soldiers  answered  with  a  shout,  and  followed 
their  young  Commandant,  as  he  hurried  from  the 
vicinity  of  the  chateau. 

"Commandant,"  said  Bruidoux,  "he  would  never  be 
so  haughty,  if  he  had  not  a  lot  of  Chouans  hidden 
away  in  his  cellars.  Give  the  word,  and  we  will  soon 
see  who  will  sleep  out  of  doors  to  night." 

"No,"  answered  Herve*,  "they  would  say  >ve  had 
violated  the  treaty.     I  am  not  sorry  for  this  reception. 

it  spares  me But  who  is  that  following  us?     Ah  ! 

it  is  Kado.  Now,  my  friend,  do  me  one  favor,  take 
good  care  of  my  horses.  I  suppose  the  poor  animals 
do  not  come  under  the  oath." 

"  I  will  do  so,  sir,  but  is  that  all  ?  " 

"  These  brave  men  are  very  hungry,  Kado.  Can't 
you  get  them  some  supper  from  the  village.  You  will 
find  us  at  the  hill  of  stones.     Here  is  my  purse." 

"But  Monsieur  Herve* " 

"  Take  my  purse,  I  say,  and  be  careful  and  pay  for 
everything,  even  if  you  are  obliged  to  put  the  moDey 
into  the  very  hand  of  the  Marquis  himself." 


THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS.    33 
CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS. 

GUIDED  by  his  childish  recollections,  Herve,  fol- 
lowed by  his  men,  threaded  the  winding  ^aths 
which  finally  led  him  to  a  bleak  piece  of  land.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  clumps  of  tall  trees,  the  only 
sign  of  vegetation  on  the  arid  soil  of  this  mountain- 
side, was  a  fine  grass  tying  in  patches,  almost  like  moss. 
The  soldiers  hesitated,  for  the  night  wind  swept  over 
the  spot,  which  seemed  singularly  unfitted  to  afford 
them  shelter. 

"  Patience,  my  friends,"  said  the  young  officer,  "  I  have 
a  surprise  for  you ! "  The  soldiers,  encouraged  by 
these  words,  pushed  on,  Herve'  following  them,  when 
all  at  once  he  heard  his  name  called. 

"  It  is  your  sister,"  said  Francis. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  murmured  Hervd,  "go  on  with 
the  men  and  I  will  join  you  presently." 

The  young  Lieutenant  hurried  on,  and  presently 
Andree*,  breathless  and  exhausted,  threw  herself  in 
her  brother's  arms. 

"  My  dear  child,"  expostulated  Herve*,  "  it  is  only 
what  we  might  have  expected.  Control  yourself,  1 
beg." 

Andree*  tried  to  speak,  but  sobs  prevented  her 


94    THE  STOKES  OF  TUE  DRUIDS. 

"  Poor  little  soul,  keep  up  your  courage,'*  murmured 
Herve,  and  then  lifting  his  e}es  to  Heaven,  as  he  held 
his  sister  close  to  his  heart,  he  cried: 

'  Oh,  God !  give  us  peace,  bring  all  this  discord  to 
an  end,  I  iniploreyou." 

"  Take  me  with  you,"  entreated  Andrei,  "  take  me 
away  with  you." 

"  Take  you  away,  child,  and  where  ?  To  a  camp  or 
to  a  prison?" 

M  No  matter  where,  dear  brother.  I  can  not  remain 
under  a  roof,  from  which  you  have  been  driven  with 
insults." 

"  But  you  are  mistaken,  I  was  simply  treated  as  if  I 
was  an  enemy,  as  indeed  I  am.  It  is  quite  natural  that 
the  report,  be  it  true  or  false,  of  the  death  of  the  young 
Pretendant  should  have  exasperated  Monsieur  Kergant 
to  that  degree,  that  he  forgot  all  that  was  due  to 
himself." 

"  And  you  will  take  me,  Herve*,"  said  Andrei,  in 
the  most  caressing  tone. 

"  Until  I  have  a  safe  and  honorable  shelter  for  you, 
my  child,  it  is  my  duty  to  leave  you  in  that  house 
which  our  father  chose  for  you.  But  we  must  part, 
dearest,"  he  added.  "  I  must  not  allow  my  soldiers  to 
think  for  a  moment,  that  I  have  abandoned  them." 

"  You  must  not  leave  me,"  Andree*  murmured.  "  [t 
is  impossible  that  we  who  have  been  separated  so  long 
should  part  so  soon,  and  in  this  way." 

"  I  promise,  Andree",  that  I  will  not  leave,  to-morrow, 
without  seeing  you." 


THE     STONES     OF     THE     DRUIDS.        C5 

Andrei  made  him  repeat  this  promise  over  and  ovei 
again,  and  then  Herve,  after  another  tender  embrace, 
turned  away,  and  ran  swiftly  after  his  men.  The  road 
was  too  rough,  for  him  to  continue  long  at  the  pace 
with  which  he  had  begun,  but  Herve*  remembered  that 
there  was  a  little  path  which  ran  across,  and  shortened 
the  distance  greatly;  this  path  was  stony  and  steep, 
but  Herve*  was  none  the  less  determined  to  try  it.  He 
had  nearly  reached  his  men,  when  he  found  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  keep  his  footing,  and  was  obliged 
to  crawl  along  on  his  knees,  aiding  himself  by  the 
thorny  reeds  to  which  he  clung.  Francis,  hearing  the 
noise,  and  Herve"s  labored  breathing,  fancied  that  his 
friend  was  pursued. 

"  Courage,"  he  cried,  "  we  are  close  at  hand.  Have 
we  the  lavandieres  again  ?     Or  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  panted  Hei've*,  as  he  rolled  down 
the  hill,  to  the  very  feet  of  the  astonished  Lieutenant, 
"  nothing  at  all,  unless  it  be  that  I  am  losing  my  mind." 

He  had  reached  a  wide  plateau,  as  smooth  as  a  well 
shorn  lawn,  stretching  far  away  toward  the  horizon 
where  the  moon  was  just  rising  amid  dark  and  storm- 
laden  clouds.  In  the  centre  of  this  plateau  stood  large 
stones,  which  at  a  distance  looked  to  be  merely  a  con- 
fused mass,  but  on  approaching,  a  certain  mysterious 
order  in  their  arrangement  was  instantly  recognized. 
These  stones  were  of  all  shapes  and  sizes ;  some  stood 
apart,  rising  like  colossal  forms,  others  in  regular  files, 
and  in  long  parallel  lines,  like  petrified  phantoms  in 


r  (J   THE  STONES  OP  THE  DRUIDS. 

their  gray  mantles;  others  again  were  flat,  like  long 
narrow  tables,  standing  on  one  end;  a  great  nnmbei 
were  placed  horizontally,  making  use  of  that  element- 
ary principle  of  architecture  which  children  put  in 
practice  as  the  base  of  their  house  of  cards,  the  same 
principle  too  had  been  made  use  of  in  a  combination 
of  flat  stones  which  were  so  arranged  as  to  form  low 
covered  galleries  closed  at  one  end.  This  seemed  the 
culmination  of  the  architect's  power. 

The  soldiers  looked  about  with  great  curiosity. 
There  was  not  another  stone  but  these  to  be  seen,  the 
soil  was  not  turned  over,  and  there  was  not  the  smallest 
indication  as  to  where  these  gigantic  materials  had 
come  from.  Had  they  been  brought  here  from  the 
distant  valley  ?  By  what  means,  and  for  what 
purpose  ?  This  was  a  question  from  which  even 
Bruidoux  shrank.  It  had  always  been  a  favorite 
maxim  of  the  old  Sergeant,  that  a  military  chief,  ought 
never  to  put  himself  in  such  a  position,  that  his  men 
might  tax  him  with  ignorance,  he  did  not  therefore 
hesitate  to  say  to  Colibri,  that  several  centuries  pre- 
viously, the  son  of  a  certain  aristocratic  giant,  amused 
himself  by  piling  these  stones,  one  on  top  of  another, 
instead  of  going  to  school  as  it  was  his  duty  to  do  ! 
"  for,"  added  the  Sergeant,  "  a  son  should  always  obey 
his  father,  even  if  that  father  be  an  ogre ;  even  the  sons 
of  Pitt  and  Cobourg  should  obey  Pitt  and  Cobourg — 
strange  as  it  might  appear !  " 

This  moral  lecture  was  interrupted  by  Kado's  arrival, 


THE     STOKES     OF     TIIE     DRUIDS.        07 

who  drove  before  him  an  ass  laden  with  provisions  and 
fire-wood,  to  both  of  which  the  soldiers  soon  paid  their 
respects.  The  old  Guard  offered  his  assistance  and 
after  kindling  their  fire,  exchanged  a  cordial  grasp  of 
the  hand  with  the  Sergeant,  promising  Herve  and 
Francis  to  meet  them,  with  their  horses,  at  a  certain 
point  the  next  morning  at  daybreak. 

After  supper,  the  soldiers  selected  their  beds  under 
these  Druid  arches,  and  each  slept  in  peace  under  those 
stones,  where  the  rust  of  centuries  covered  the  stain 
of  human  blood.  Francis  lay  just  within  the  entrance 
to  one  of  the  strange  galleries,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  where  Herve*  told  him  he  had  often  seen  old 
men  praying  in  memory  of  the  worship  of  their  ances- 
tors. The  young  Commandant  soon  realized  that  he 
had  lost  his  audience,  and  smiled  as  he  drew  a  cloak 
with  paternal  care  closer  over  Francis,  but  sighed  with 
r^ret  for  that  age  when  sleep  comes  so  readily. 

After  walking  about  these  once  sacred  precincts, 
Herve*  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  tables  scattered 
about.  This  spot  still  retained  for  the  inhabitants  of 
the  district,  a  vague  reflection  of  its  antique  character. 
Fear  and  respect  held  some  people  aloof  from  the  spot 
as  frou  /a  unholy  place ;  but  it  also  prostrated  others 
with  words  from  the  Holy  Gospel  on  their  lips,  at  the 
foot  of  these  pitiless  altars. 

That  element  of  superstitious  curiosity  which  has  so 
much  power  over  children,  and  which  is  not  altogether 
lost  on  reaching  man's  estate,  had  caused  this  place 
7 


08    THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS. 

never  to  be  forgotten  by  Herve.  When  very  young  hip. 
imagination  was  fired  by  the  legends  he  heard  around 
the  evening  fire,  and  he  shivered  with  delicious  terror 
as  he  hovered  about  these  stones  day  after  day.  He 
remembered  once,  how  he  had  hung  about  one  of  the 
galleries  so  fascinated  that  he  could  not  make  up  his 
mind  to  go  home.  Night  came  on ;  he  was  missed 
from  the  chateau,  and  a  search  being  made,  he  was 
found  unconscious  within  the  gallery,  as  if  he  had 
met  face  to  face,  the  angry  God,  to  whom  the  ancient 
priests  had  made  their  sacrifices.  Bellah,  whose  natural 
tarn  of  mind  was  to  romance  and  thought,  felt  an 
attraction  as  keen  as  his  to  the  Druid  hill,  and  often 
accompanied  Herve'  thither.  When  night  peopled  with 
doubtful  shadows  this  city  of  the  Stones,  the  girl  shrank 
close  to  the  side  of  her  adopted  brother,  who  was 
delighted  to  extend  his  protection ;  both  regarding  it, 
as  a  presentiment  of  a  still  tenderer  affection,  and  the 
first  link  in  a  chain,  that  should  bind  them  closer 
together  in  the  future. 

The  girl  and  boy  liked  to  repeat  to  each  other  the 
graceful  or  terrible  traditions  of  their  native  land,. and 
to  search  on  the  altars,  for  indications  of  sanguinary 
rites.  It  was  here,  indeed,  that  the  two  children  expe- 
rienced the  first  heart-beats  of  a  common  danger  —  the 
first  jo}^s  of  an  exchange  of  dreams  and  delusions. 

These  recollections  now  overwhelmed  Herve" ;  he 
was  too  fatigued  to  sleep,  and  was  half  lying  on  the 
stone  table,  in  the  attitude  of  a  statue  on  a  tomb,  when 


THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS.    99 

he  started  up,  for  among  the  further  rocks  he  saw  the 
form  of  a  woman,  slowly  drawing  nearer.  Herv^ 
pressed  his  hands  to  his  brow,  asking  himself  if  his 
reason  had  left  him,  but  the  apparition  glided  onward, 
and  he  recognized  Bellah. 

44  You  here  !  "  he  cried,  as  he  snatched  her  hand. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  slowly  withdrew  it. 

"  Commandant  HerveY '  she  said,  coldly,  "  will  you 
kindly  grant  me  a  few  moments  conversation?  " 

Herve*,  thus  recalled  to  the  present,  bowed  and  took 
off  his  hat;  then  seeing  that  Bellah's  anxious  eyes 
essayed  to  pierce  the  darkness  around  her,  he  said : 

44  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  may  speak  without  the 
least  fear :  my  men  are  all  asleep,  off  there  by  the  fire.'' 

The  young  girl  leaned  against  the  stone,  near  which 
Commandant  Heive*  stood  erect,  and  did  not  speak  for 
a  minute  or  two. 

At  last  she  said,  slowly:  " Monsieur,  your  govern- 
ment has  cancelled  by  a  new  crime,  the  treaties  between 
us-" 

14 1  am  not  aware  of  it,"  Herve*  answered. 

k  I  tell  you  so,"  said  Bellah. 

Herve*  bowed  profoundly. 

tv  Have  you  sir,"  she  continued,  "such  a  singular  idea 
of  duty,  that  you  consider  yourself  bound  to  adhere  to 
a  perjured  government?  Are  you  resolved  to  bear 
such  burthen,  and  assume  such  tasks  as  your  Republic 
may  see  fit  to  impose  upon  you  ?  " 

"Permit  me,  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant."  answered 


100  THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS. 

Herve*,  "to  repudiate  the  complicity  with  which  you 
seem  so  eager  to  charge  me;  I  answer,  of  course,  only 
for  myself.  I  serve  not  men  so  much  as  ideas — I 
deplore  the  mistakes  to  which  these  ideas  lead — I  pity 
the  martyrs  they  make,  and  would  gladly  rescue  them, 
but  the  principles  tliemselves  are  pure,  and  worthy  of 
the  faith  which  I  have  sworn  to  them.  As  to  this  new 
crime,  Mademoiselle  will  permit  me  to  hear  of  it, 
from  impartial  lips,  before  I  venture  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment upon  it." 

"Do  you  doubt  my  word,  Sir?"  said  Bellah,  with 
bitter  disdain. 

"Do  I  doubt  your  word?  Yes,  I  do ! "  cried  Herve, 
with  passionate  vehemence.  "I  doubt  your  voice 
itself —  I  doubt  those  cold  lips  and  the  strange  words 
they  utter.  Who  are  you?  Whence  come  you?  Why 
are  you  here  ?  Who  sent  you  ?  Was  this  the  place  to 
select,  in  which  to  taunt  and  overwhelm  me?  By 
Heaven !  this  is  a  cruelty  that  passes  the  imagination 
of  man.     Leave  me." 

At  this  sudden  bursting  of  the  storm,  the  girl's 
courage  seemed  to  falter,  and  it  wa's  in  a  faint  and 
tremulous  voice,  like  a  penitent's,  that  she  replied  : 

"  Yes,  Herve',  I  will  go." 

But  instead  of  going,  she  pressed  both  hands  to  hsr 
heart,  as  if  to  restrain  its  tumultuous  beating. 

"Bellah,"  said  Herve\  more  gently,  " forgive  me, 
—  but  you  have  filled  up  the  measure  of  my  mortifi- 
cations.     Will  you  go  now?     You  will  leave  a  man 


THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS.   101 

here,  whose  spirit  cannot  bear  up  under  another  straw. 
Your  task  is  done.     Farewell ! " 

"  Oh  !  not  yet  —  not  thus,  Herve* !  I  came  —  I 
hoped — yes,  I  still  hope,  that  your  childish  associa- 
tions with  this  place  are  not  forgotten,  whatevei 
may  have  been  these  two  long  years  of  separation." 

uThey  have  been  such,"  interrupted  Herve^  "that  1 
would  give  them,  and  two  more  yet  to  come,  for  one 
hour  of  our  happy  Past." 

"Oh!  Thank  God  — thank  God.  This  Past  may 
be  ours  once  more,  Herve* !  you  can  return  to  this 
family,  to  this  home,  and  find  a  father  and  sisters 
ready  to  receive  you  with  open  arms — you  can  do  this 
— will  you  ?  " 

"  Oh !  if  I  could  think  that  this  could  ever  be,"  said 
the  young  man,  sadly. 

"  It  can  be  now,  this  very  moment ! "  answered 
Bellah,  eagerly.  "  Listen  to  me,  Herve" :  The  war  is 
about  to  re-commence,  and  I  have  reasons — I  know,  in 
fact,  that  our  cause  will  triumph.  You  do  not  care 
for  what  I  say,  but  I  know  it.  This  cause  is  that 
of  your  ancestors — it  is  the  cause  of  God;  you  have 
deceived  yourself,  Herve.  My  father  has  ambitious 
projects  for  you;  he  is  determined  that  your  talents 
and  your  courage  shall  be  recognized — all  this  justice 
you  will  obtain  from  us — of  that  you  may  be  sure.  If 
you  wish  proofs,  Herv6,  take  this." 

As  she  uttered  these  last  words,  she  drew  from  her 
bosom  a  folded  paper,  which  she  placed  in  his  hands. 


102     THE    STONES    Of    THE    fcRtJlDS. 

He  drew  back  with  a  shudder  as  if  an  adder  had 
touched  him,  and  the  paper  fell  at  his  feet. 

"  The  justice  I  should  deserve,"  he  said,  "  would  oe 
the  contempt  of  my  friends . —  the  contempt  of  my  ene- 
mies and  yours  also,  Bellah." 

"  Mine  !  You  are  mistaken  !  I  should  never  enter 
tain  contempt  for  a  man  who  nobly  retracts  his  errors." 

"  You  would  be  the  first  to  despise  me,  Bellah,  and 
you  would  be  right.  Not  another  word  on  this  point, 
I  implore  you." 

"Suppose  I  should  tell  you,  Herve*,  that  you  can 
never  return  to  your  Republicans — that  death  awaits 

you?" 

"  It  is  a  familiar  prospect  to  a  soldier,  and  each  hour 
I  live,  renders  me  more  reconciled  to  death." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  girl,  in  a  strange  tone ;  "  you 
are  ready  to  die  as  a  soldier,  but  an  ignominious  death 
— the  death  of  a  traitor;  what  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"  Such  an  idea  is  not  worth  thinking  about  at  all  — " 

"But  you  will  be  accused,  and  then  the  end  is 
certain.  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  realize  that  I  am 
speaking  the  truth." 

"  Tell  me  what  you  mean." 

"  Alas  !  Were  my  father's  life  involved  as  is  yours, 
my  lips  would  still  be  sealed." 

"  So  be  it ;  my  judges  will  tell  me." 

"  Herve* !  your  heart  has  grown  hard  among  these 
men  of  blood ;  you  sacrifice  your  life  without  remem- 
bering that  it  does  not  be"ong  to  yourself  alone.  Poor 
Andrei ! " 


THE     STONES     OF     THE     DRUIDS.      103 

*'If  misfortune  should  come  to  me,"  said  Herve*, 
turning  his  head  away,  "I  know  with  whom  I  leave 
her." 

Bellah  grasped  the  young  man's  arm  with  almost 
savage  energy,  and  fixing  her  large  eyes,  swimming  in 
tears,  upon  him,  she  said,  slowly : 

"  And  what  of  me  ?  " 

Bellah's  despairing  gesture,  her  low  hoarse  whisper, 
lent  to  these  words  so  much  expression,  that  Herve* 
was  moved  to  the  depth  of  his  heart.  It  was  almost 
as  if  the  lips  of  her  whom  he  loved,  had  touched  his 
own.  He  took  with  trembling  hand,  the  icy  cold 
fingers  which  Bellah  yielded,  and  looking  into  the 
very  eyes  of  the  girl,  who  stood  with  loudly  beating 
heart  before  him,  he  said : 

"  Bellah,  I  love  you  very  dearly !  My  life  for  the 
last  two  years,  has  been  filled  with  this  love,  and  yet — 
mistaken  or  not — I  can  see  no  honor  separate  from  the 
duties  before  me.  I  could  not  live  dishonored — not 
even  with  you — above  all  with  you  !  " 

As  lie  finished  speaking,  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant's 
head  drooped  heavily  on  her  breast. 

u  And  there  is  nothing  more  for  me  to  say — noth- 
ing!" she  murmured,  in  despair.  "Hervd,"  she  con- 
tinued, "Understand  that  this  is  irrevocable — that 
our  adieu  is  eternal;  we  shall  never  see  each  other 
again — all  is  finished — finished  !  May  God  forgive  me 
for  having  spoken  to  you  thus;  I  have  allowed  my 
weak   woman's  heart   to  influence  me.      I   thought  I 


104   THE  STONES  OF  THE  DRUIDS. 

was  doing  right,  because  it  cost  me  a  greater  struggle 
than  anything  else  in  the  world,  and  I  am  mortified 
and  ashamed." 

"Bellah!  Bellah!  you  are  killing  me!     Adieu." 

14  Adieu ! "  then  cried  the  girl,  with  a  spasmodic 
effort  at  self-control.  "Adieu,  man  without  memory, 
soul,  heart  or  pity !  my  duty  is  as  unplacable  as  yours. 
Adieu !  "  And  she  departed,  moving  swiftly,  but  so 
noiselessly  that  her  going,  like  her  coming,  was  as  the 
silent  vision  of  a  dream. 

As  soon  as  she  had  disappeared,  Pelven  followed  her 
some  little  distance,  as  if  unwilling  to  submit  to  her 
loss.  He  fancied  that  he  heard  her  speak,  and  then 
that  a  man's  voice  was  mingled  with  hers.  The  idea 
that  this  attempt  of  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  was  a 
concerted  plan — that  she  had  a  confidant,  now  occurred 
to  Herve'  in  the  most  obnoxious  colors. 

He  took  a  dense  path,  and  moving  on  cautiously, 
was  soon  far  enough  to  see  Bellah,  and  at  her  side  a 
man  of  elegant  figure,  elastic  step,  and  a  way  of  mov- 
ing that  was  both  energetic  and  youthful.  Mademoi- 
selle seemed  to  interrupt  him  from  time  to  time,  as  if 
making  objections,  and  her  companion's  animated  voice 
sometimes  rose  high  and  again  subsided  into  a  tone  o{ 
the  greatest  intimacy.  Herve*,  through  his  familiarity 
with  the  country,  was  able  to  follow  the  pair  unsus- 
pected by  them  for  some  time  longer,  for  he  wanted  to 
obtain  some  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  stranger,  either 
through  voice  or  gesture. 


TIIE     STONES     OF     THE     DRUIDS.      105 

When  they  were  within  a  hundred  feet  of  the 
chateau,  the  unknown  suddenly  stopped,  and,  uttering 
a  few  vehement  words,  snatched  Bellah's  hand. 
Herve*,  with  an  exclamation  of  rage,  was  about  to  leap 
the  hedge  which  concealed  him,  when  a  most  unex- 
pected accident  nailed  him  to  the  ground ;  Mademoi- 
selle Kergant  released  her  arm,  and  took  in  turn  the 
hand  of  her  bold  cavalier — pressing  her  lips  upon  it, 
she  bent  nearly  to  the  ground.  After  which  she 
hurried  to  the  chateau,  followed  more  slowly  by  the 
man,  who  had  just  received  from  her  this  extraordinary 
mark  of  favor. 

Herve,  no  longer  caring  to  conceal  himself  and 
absolutely  carried  away  by  rage,  now  advanced. 

"  Stop,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  which  if  not 
very  loud,  was  at  least  distinct. 

The  unknown  turned. 

"  Who  is  it  ?     Who  calls  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  I,  sir.  Pray,  wait  a  moment,  I  beg  of  you," 
answered  the  Commandant,  hurrying  on. 

uThe  deuce  take  that  officer,"  murmured  the  un- 
known ;  and  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  quick- 
ened his  steps  to  that  degree,  that  Hervd  could  not 
reach  him  until  he  entered  the  court  of  the  chateau, 
where  Herve*  did  not  care  to  follow. 

"  Never,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  turned  on  his 
heel;  "never  did  the  fantastic  images  of  delirium 
depict  such  a  scene !  Bellah — that  haughty,  modest 
young  girl — on  Le»:  knees  before  a  man,  receiving— 


106       THE     STONES     OF    TIIE     DRUIDS. 

what  do  I  say  ?  herself  lavishing  caresses  on  him ;  and 
that,  too,  when  her  lips  were  still  trembling  with  the 
words  she  had  uttered  to  another.    Can  it  be  possible  ?  " 

The  young  man,  as  he  spoke,  had  drawn  the  white 
plume  from  his  breast,  and  now  tore  it  into  fragments, 
iwhich  he  tossed  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven. 

After  this  execution  in  effigy,  Henre*  went  back  to 
the  djdng  embers  of  the  bivouac  fire,  and  threw  himself 
on  the  ground  near  Francis.  The  intense  fatigue  of 
this  day  of  mental  and  physical  excitement,  had  been 
so  great  that,  in  spite  of  his  agitation,  he  slept  so 
soundly,  that  the  punctual  Bruidoux  was  obliged  to 
awaken  him  at  daybreak. 

Not  ten  minutes  after  the  party  had  gone,  little 
Andree*  arrived,  all  out  of  breath,  at  a  point  where  her 
eyes  swept  the  plateau.  Seeing  it  deserted,  she  uttered 
a  cry  of  agony,  and,  throwing  herself  on  the  ground, 
wept  for  hours. 


LIBERTY    AND     EQUALITY.  10? 

CHAPTER   VII. 

LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

THE  principal  corps  of  the  Republican  army  then 
had  its  quarters  at  Vitre*,  on  the  limit  of  1  Tle-et- 
Velame  and  of  La  Mayenne.  The  general  in  chief 
occupied,  between  Rennes  and  Vitre',  a  dwelling  of 
modest  appearance — something  between  a  manor  house 
and  a  farm,  which  had  no  claim  to  the  honor  of  such 
a  guest,  other  than  those  presented  by  its  sequestered 
and  picturesque  aspect.  It  is  to  the  courtyard  of  this 
house  that  we  now  take  our  readers,  informing  them 
that  four  days  have  elapsed  since  the  last  scene  of  our 
romance. 

It  was  one  o'clock  in  the  day.  Within  the  court- 
yard, surrounded  by  high  walls,  a  number  of  soldiers 
in  uniform,  were  chatting  with  that  reserve  which  indi- 
cated the  presence  of  a  superior  officer. 

The  most  active  of  the  men,  were  polishing  their 
arms  or  equipments  of  the  horses,  belonging  to  their 
officers.  Some,  more  melancholy,  lay  on  the  ground 
watching  the  light  clouds  floating  over  the  sky ;  others, 
face  downward,  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  botanical 
studies.  A  very  characteristic  corner  of  this  picture 
was  formed  by  two  soldiers,  each  with  a  gray  mous- 
tache, who  having  laid  a  long  board  across  the  trunk 


108  L  I  B  E  R  T  T     A  X  t>     EQUALITY. 

of  a  fallen  tree,  were  balancing  each  other  with  por- 
tentous gravity,  as  if  their  very  salvation  were 
involved.  It  was  toward  this  group  that  a  young  offi- 
cer, crossing  the  court-yard  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in 
his  hand  and  a  pen  between  his  teeth,  now  directed  his 
footsteps. 

"Well,  Mayen^ais,"  he  said.  "  Has  not  Command- 
ant Pelven  yet  come  back  ?  " 

"Not  yet,"  answered  Mayen^ais,  from  up  in  the  air, 
as  his  end  of  the  board  was  at  that  moment  in  the 
ascendant. 

"  And  has  nothing  been  heard  from  him  ?  " 

"Nothing  at  all,"  said  Mayen^ais,  as  he  came  slowly 
down . 

"  Look  out,  you  fat  porpoise,"  cried  the  young  man, 
who,  a  little  offended  at  the  indifference  with  which 
the  soldier  had  answered,  gave  to  the  board  on  which 
Mayemjais  was  seated,  a  slight  push  with  his  foot.  The 
board,  yielding  to  the  impetus,  turned  on  itself,  and 
allowed  the  two  men  to  roll  on  the  grass,  greatly  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  public. 

While  the  two  old  soldiers  endeavored  to  replace  the 
board  to  their  satisfaction,  the  sentinel  standing  just 
outside  the  great  arched  door,  that  opened  into  the 
country,  uttered  a  quick,  "Who  goes  there?"  to  which 
an  imperative  voice  made  reply.  The  sentinel  pre- 
sented arms,  and  in  a  moment  five  horsemen,  with 
garments  covered  with  dust  and  foam,  entered  the 
court-yard  with  great  noise. 


LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY.  109 

Four  of  them  wore  the  uniform  of  the  Republican 
hussars,  while  the  fifth — the  one  who  was  first  to  enter, 
seemed  to  be  a  civilian,  for  he  wore  no  distinctive  signs, 
except  a  belt  and  a  tri-colored  plume.  The  sudden 
silence  which  ensued  in  the  court-yard,  and  a  name 
whispered  among  the  soldiers,  showed  that  to  many 
of  them,  the  new  comer  was  an  old  acquaintance, 
and  an  acquaintance,  too,  who  was  to  be  welcomed 
with  more  respect  than  pleasure.  He  who  received 
this  somewhat  equivocal  greeting  justified  it  in  some 
degree,  by  the  almost  ascetic  severity  of  his  features, 
and  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  which  was  singularly 
stern  and  almost  implacable.  Giving  the  bridle  of 
his  horse  to  a  soldier,  he  hurriedly  entered  the  house, 
and,  ascending  the  stairs,  found  himself  in  an  ante- 
room, where  two  sentinels  were  on  guard.  Waving 
away  one  of  them,  who,  while  he  made  a  military 
salute,  seemed  to  hesitate  in  admitting  him,  the  new- 
comer, himself  opened  the  double  door  into  the  room, 
and  seemed  at  last  to  have  found  that  for  which  he  had 
been  seeking,  with  such  haste  and  scanty  ceremony. 
Two  persons  were  in  the  room  invaded  in  this  dis- 
courteous fashion,  and  one  of  these,  at  the  noise  made 
by  the  opening  door — a  young  girl,  slender  and  childish 
in  appearance — started  up  from  the  corner  of  a  sofa, 
on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  or  rather  curled  d  la 
Turque.  On  recognizing  the  austere  visage  that  pre- 
gented  itself,  she  uttered  a  little  cry,  and  gliding  across 
the  room,  disappeared  behind  a  portiere. 


110  LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

This  rapid  flight  left  the  indiscreet  visitor  tSte  a  tete 
vith  a  man,  tall  and  elegant  in  appearance,  whose 
/outhful  features  were  singularly  handsome.  This  per- 
sonage wore  a  military  coat,  embroidered  in  gold, 
with  oak  leaves  on  collar  and  cuffs.  Before  him  lay  a 
tri-colored  scarf,  and  a  sword,  on  a  table  close  to  the 
sofa  so  promptly  deserted.  Detecting  the  agitation 
occasioned  by  his  unexpected  appearance,  the  unpre- 
possessing-looking individual  who  introduces  our  read- 
ers to  this  quiet  scene,  stopped  short,  with  frowning 
brow  and  a  mocking  smile  on  his  lips.  A  deep  blush 
mounted  to  the  cheeks  of  him  to  whom  this  mute 
reproach  was  addressed.  He  half  rose,  and  then 
seating  himself  with  a  certain  haughty  negligence,  he 
said  coldly : 

"  Citizen  Representative,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  are 
not  over  ceremonious  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  bad  habit  I  have,  citizen  General,  of  neglect- 
ing, with  others,  those  punctilious  precautions  of  eti- 
quette, the  need  of  which  I  have  never  felt  for  myself! 
I  beg  to  excuse  myself,  as  I  do  not  care,  in  so  small  a 
matter,  to  appeal  to  the  rights  with  which  we  are 
clothed,  by  the  power  of  the  Convention,  in  the  rights 
of  the  Republic. 

"Your  rights!  the  Republic!"  interrupted  the  young 
general  impetuously.  "There  is  but  one  Republic  in 
the  world  and  that  is  the  masqued  Republic  of  Venice, 
which  never  conferred  such  rights  as  you  arrogate.  I 
ought  to  remind  you,  citizen,  that    there   is   a    pniiii 


LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY.  Ill 

beyond  which  legitimate  surveillance  may  be  called  by 
another  name." 

"And  have  we  reached  that  point?"  asked  the 
Representative,  in  a  low,  stern  voice.  "  Explain  your- 
self, citizen,  if  you  please.  If  you  merely  intend  an 
offence  to  me  personally,  I  assure  you  that  I  am  indif- 
ferent, but  if  you  intend  to  lay  down  limits  to  the 
Convention,  then  I  say,  that  it  is  well  that  I  should  be 
aware  of  the  intent,  before  I  go  on  with  what  I  came 
to  say." 

The  General's  frowning  brow,  the  quiver  of  his  lips, 
indicated  that  it  was  with  difficult}^  that  he  submitted 
to  the  yoke,  with  which  the  heavy  hand  of  the  Conven- 
tion had  weighted  his  victorious  head.  He  rose  hastily 
and  said  with  a  constrained  smile : 

"  I  must  say,  that  I  should  like  to  be,  as  every  char- 
coal burner  is,  master  in  my  house.  Nevertheless,  if 
my  first  impulse — perhaps  an  excusable  one — allowed 
me  to  forget  the  respect  I  owe  to  the  Convention,  and 
tc  all  those  who  are  endowed  by  them  with  authority, 
I  am  ready  to  say  that  I  regret  it.  You  seem  to  have 
come  off  a  long  journey,  citizen.  Are  you  a  bearer  of 
despatches  ?  " 

"  No  ;  only  of  news." 

"  And  of  what  nature  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  tjiey  were  good,  if  I  might  judge  them 
from  my  individual  point  of  view,  for  they  confirm  all 
my  previsions,  and  justify  all  my  warnings,  to  which  no 
one  would  listen.     Your  talents  are  great,  citizen  Gen- 


112  LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

eral,  but  you  are  young !  A  Revolutionary  epoch  is  not 
one  for  chivalric  illusions.  Civic  crowns  are  not  woven 
by  women's  fingers.  Your  soul  is  great  I  know,  but 
you  are  too  sensible  to  the  flattery  of  a  transitory 
popularity.  He  who  puts  his  hand  to  a  Revolutionary 
work  should  resign  himself  to  knowing,  that  his  name 
is  accursed  even  when  his  task  is  a  good  one.  You  did 
not  choose  to  listen  to  me — you  wished  to  temporize 
when  it  was  necessary  to  fight;  to  cure  when  you 
should  have  amputated.  I  told  you  then,  that  all  your 
conciliatory  words,  all  your  concessions,  served  only 
ends  of  treason  and  ingratitude ;  and  to-day  I  tell  you 
that  your  harvest  is  ripe." 

"  That  is  to  say,  I  presume,"  answered  the  young 
General,  who  had  witb  difficulty  restrained  his  impa- 
tience during  the  tirade  of  this  dreary  Republican, 
"  that  is  to  say,  the  treaty  is  broken." 

"  Openly  and  audaciously." 

u  And  is  it  I,  whom  you  accuse,  citizen  ?  Has  the 
moderation  and  humanity  which  I  endeavored  to  intro- 
duce into  this  melancholy  war  been  carried  out?  Have 
I  been  seconded  ?  Have  I  even  been  obeyed  ?  Was 
it  I  who  caused  the  former  Comte  de  Geslin,  and  de 
Tristam  to  be  assassinated?  Was  it  I  who  ordered 
the  head  of  Boishardy  to  be  borne  across  the  country, 
to  demonstrate  the  results  wh'.ch  should  follow  my 
pacific  words?  These  crimes,  notwithstanding  my 
entreaties,  are  still  unpunished ;  and  the  brigands,  as 
sve  call  them,  have  hot  blood  in  their  veins,  and  have 


LIBERTY     A  N  D     EQUALITY.  113 

proved  it  —  that  is  all  1  Tie  Chouans  have  then 
returned  again  ?  " 

"  The  whole  country  is  in  a  blaze  from  Le  bas  Maine 
to  the  end  of  Bretagne.  One  of  our  corvettes  has  been 
surprised  and  captured  on  the  Vaunes  —  Duhesnie  has 
been  attacked  before  Plelan  —  Humbert  at  Camors ! 
Our  magazines  in  the  Finisterre  are  taken ;  our  fortifi- 
cations throughout  the  Morbigan,  are  overpowered,  and 
captured." 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  asked  the  General,  who  affected  to 
listen  with  indifference,  as  the  Representative  showed 
pleasure  in  the  recital. 

"  No ;  it  is  not  all.  A  Bourbon  is  at  the  head  of  the 
rebels." 

"  Impossible  ! "  cried  the  young  Republican  chief, 
instantly  losing  the  air  with  which  he  had  clothed  his 
wounded  pride.  "  That  would  be  terrible,"  he  added, 
in  a  lower  voice. 

"  What  I  say  is  true.  Duhesme  and  Humbert  both 
saw  him.  Humbert  even  spoke  to  him  during  the 
combat.  He  is,  they  say,  the  ci  devant  Comte  d  'Artois, 
a  brother  of  Capet." 

"  The  Comte  d  'Artois !  Impossible  !  "  repeated  the 
(ieneral,  whose  animated  gestures  betrayed  great  agita- 
tion. "  Only  a  moment  ago,  just  before  you  entered  in 
fact,  I  heard  of  the  arrival  of  his  aide-de-camp,  the 
ci  devant  Marquis  de  Riviere,  at  Chare  ttes,  but  of  the 
Prince,  nothing.  He  had  not  left  English  soil  then, 
8 


114  LIBERTY     AXD     EQUALITY. 

and  how  and  at  what  fata  moment,  did  he  set  foot  in 
Brittany?" 

fck  It  is  precisely  upon  that  point,  citizen  General,  that 
I  wish  to  ask  your  advice.  The  surveillance  has  been 
so  careful  on  the  coast,  that  the  appearance  of  the 
Prince  can  only  be  accounted  for  in  a  most  melancholy 
way.     The  word  treason  has  been  whispered." 

The  General  wheeled  quickly,  and  fixing  his  flashing 
eyes  on  the  cold  face  of  the  Representative,  he  repeated 
in  a  voice  of  thunder : 

"  The  word  treason  has  been  whispered  ?  The  trea- 
son of  whom  ?  " 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  citizen  general,  no  one 
breams  of  suspecting  you." 

u  And  why  not,  pray,"  answered  the  young  man 
bitterly.  M  Have  I  not  expected  that  accusation,  ever 
since  the  day  that  I  made  my  first  attempt  to  render 
this  war  more  worthy  of  this  century  and  of  a  civilized 
nation?  It  is  necessary,"  he  continued,  taking  as  he 
spoke  several  rapid  strides  up  and  down  the  room  ;  "it 
is  necessary,  it  seems,  to  cut,  hew  and  destroy !  Is  it 
an  army  or  a  city  before  me  ?  It  is  a  people — throw 
them  into  the  ocean,  and  pass  the  ploughshare  over 
half  of  France  if  you  can,  I  will  not  countenance 
another  of  these  atrocious  follies.  If  this  be  treason, 
so  be  it!  Let  them  suspect  me — let  them  denounce 
me !  I  care  not.  I  am  weary  of  this  savage  war, 
wherein  I  may  perish  some  morning,  as  ignnminiously 
as  if  I   were  a  chief  of  bandits.     Let   them  take  my 


LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY.  115 

sword — I  consent.  Nay,  I  demand  it.  Let  them  send 
me  to  regain  my  military  rank,  step  by  step,  on  real 
battle-fields,  where  the  wonnded  are  not  murdered  nor 
the  dead  mutilated !  " 

M  You  are  losing  your  self  command,  General,  and 
yet  you  will  need  it  all  to  listen  to  that  which  I  have 
still  to  say." 

"  I  told  you  distinctly,"  he  continued,  "  that  there  was 
not  the  smallest  suspicion  against  you ;  and  I  spoke  the 
absolute  truth,  but  you  are  reproached,  for  bestowing 
your  confidence  with  too  much  facility,  for  allowing 
yourself  to  regard  suspicious  personages  with  far  too 
much  friendliness.  I  speak  now  of  one  of  your  officers, 
one  whom  you  have  received  on  the  most  intimate 
terms,  the  ci-devant  Comte  de  Pelven." 

"  Commandant  Pelven,  citizen  Representative,  has 
made  for  the  Republic,  more  sacrifices  than  either  you 
or  I,  and  in  leaving  him  two  years  in  the  humble  posi- 
tion he  occupies,  a  most  crying  injustice  has  been 
perpetrated,  an  injustice  that  I  shall  make  haste  to 
repair." 

"  Hasten,  I  beg,  or  you  may  be  anticipated,  for  the 
Bourbon,  if  he  be  not  an  ingrate,  owes  a  high  recom 
pense  to  the  pure  patriot  who  received  hiin  on  his 
landing,  and  gave  him  an  escort  through  a  country 
swarming  with  '  the  brigands '  as  you  call  them." 

"  Have  you  proofs  of  these  assertions,  citizen  ?  " 

"Here  they  are,"  and  the  Representative  drew  a 
paper  from  his  portfolio.      "  This  is   what  one   of  our 


116  LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

agents  in  England  writes,  you  yourself  can  judge  of 
the  veracity  of  these  statements  as  well  as  myself. 
This  letter,  unfortunately,  reached  me  two  days  aftei 
the  event  it  was  destined  to  anticipate.  Listen  :  "  The 
English  frigate  Loyalty  will  land  on  the  west  of  Brit- 
tany,  a  Bourbon  who  is  said  to  be  the  Due  d'Enghien, 
son  of  Conde,  or  the  Comte  d'Artois:  this  last  is  the 
most  probable.  He  travels  under  the  disguise  of  a 
woman,  in  the  suite  of  the  sister  and  the  daughter,  of 
the  ci-devant  Kergant,  who  have  obtained  permission 
to  return  to  France,  through  the  intercession  of  the 
ci-devant  Pelven,  a.  Republican  officer,  high  in  the 
favor  of  the  General-in-Chief.  The  connivance  of 
Pelven,  is  relied  upon  to  protect  the  embarkation,  which 
will  take  place  within  a  few  days  on  the  southern  coast 
of  Finisterre ;  the  West,  which  this  time  includes 
Normandy,  only  awaits  the  long  promised  arrival  of 
this  chief  to  rise  en  masse.'''' 

The  General,  during  this  narration,  stood  dumb 
with  surprise. 

"Is  this  true?  Is  this  absolutely  certain? "  added 
the  Representative,  pitilessly  displaying  the  letter.  .The 
young  man  grasped  it  and  read  it  at  a  glance,  uttered 
a  low  groan,  and  dropped  on  the  sofa,  where  he  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

The  only  spectator  of  this  anguish  was  not  of  a 
character  from  whom  compassion  could  be  expected  foi 
any  weakness  of  poor  humanity,  however  generous  the 
source  might  be_:  in  fact,  almost  a  gleam  cf  triumph 


LIBEKTY     AND     EQUALITY.  117 

might  be  detected,  in  the  gaze  which  he  fixed  on  the 
young  Republican  officer. 

"  I  am  more  surprised  at  the  audacity  of  your  friend," 
he  resumed,  "  than  at  anything  else.  Instead  of 
remaining  with  this  person  whom  he  has  so  well  served, 
I  am  informed  that  he  is  on  his  way  back  to  you,  to 
resume  the  espionage  which  has  served  him  so  well." 

"  Espionage  !  Preposterous.  Pelven,  a  spy  !  "  mur- 
mured the  General,  as  if  the  conjunction  were  an 
enigma  that  he  could  not  solve. 

"  The  first  thing,  citizen  General,  as  you  will  admit," 
continued  his  companion,  "is  that  justice  shall  be 
done." 

The  General  did  not  speak  for  some  minutes,  then, 
lifting  his  head,  he  said, 

"  It  is  well,  citizen  Representative,  it  shall  be  done." 

"  I  will  wait  for  Pelven's  return,  you  will  then  give 
me  an  escort,  and  I  will  take  him  to  Rouen,  where  he 
shall  be  interrogated  before  my  colleagues,  after  which 
he  will  be  tried  and  sentenced." 

"  I  tell  you  citizen,  that  justice  shall  be  done.  Did 
/ou  not  understand  me?" 

"Not  in  the  .least,"  answered  the  Representative 
with  an  air  of  the  greatest  surprise.  "  Do  you  mean 
that  you  refuse  to  surrender  this  great  criminal  to  the 
vengeance  of  the  Nation  ?  " 

"  I  hold  from  the  Nation  the  power  to  avenge  it,  I 
require  no  aid  from  any  one." 

The  General  spoke  with  a  calm  decision  that  enraged 
the  Representative. 


il8  LIBEKTY     AND     EQTTALITlT. 

"Young  man,"  he  exclaimed,  with  great  violence,  2 
have  borne  much  from  you,  far  more  than  my  character 
and  my  duty  demanded,  but  this  is  beyond  all  patience 
and  all  belief!  Do  you  forget  who  I  am?  Do  you  for- 
get that  were  I  to  open  this  window  and  utter  two 
words,  I  could  have  your  epaulettes  torn  from  your 
shoulders  by  your  own  soldiers?  " 

"  Try  it,"  said  the  General,  who  having  once  taken 
his  resolution,  seemed  to  delight  in  his  novel  and  dan- 
gerous independence. 

"  He  has  certainly  lost  his  mind,"  murmured  his 
companion,  who  could  not  comprehend  such  bravado, 
and  such  disregard  of  the  terrible  power,  with  which 
he  was  invested. 

"  I  should  like,"  continued  the  General,  "  to  see  this 
point  tested.  One  of  us  two,  citizen,  is  too  much  in 
the  confidence  of  the  Nation.  It  is  advisable  to  dis- 
cover which,  and  I  snatch  the  present  occasion  to  find 
out.  Since  this  stupendous  and  terrible  war  has  again 
blazed  out,  it  is  not  for  me  to  try  and  smother  it,  unless 
my  feet  and  hands,  are  released  from  the  iron  chain 
with  which  you  have  hampered  them.  What  can  I  do, 
if  all  my  movements  are  controlled,  by  the  inquisitorial 
spirit  manifested  by  you  and  your  colleagues  —  if  all 
my  intentions  are  questioned  by  fanatics,  and  my  plans 
frustrated  by  ignorance  ?  " 

"  Ah  ! "  answered  the  Representative.  "  I  see  it  all 
now,  and  can  only  say,  woe  to  you,  or  woe  to  the 
Republic!" 


LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY.  U9 

"  The  Republic  !  "  answered  the  young  man,  his  fine 
features  glowing  with  enthusiasm.  "The  Republic  is 
my  mother !  I  owe  everything  to  her.  I  love  her  with 
my  whole  heart  as  I  have  proved  more  than  once,  and 
as  1  hope,  please  God,  to  prove  again,  but  this  Republic 
is  not  yours.  Her  likeness,  graven  on  my  heart,  is  not 
that  which  you  have  enthroned,  face  to  face  with  the 
scaffold  on  our  public  squares. 

"  Gladly  would  I,  at  the  price  of  my  life,  tear  from 
history,  this  black  and  bloody  page,  which  you  desecrate 
with  this  sacred  name.  Future  generations  will  never 
pardon  you  for  having  made  this  name  —  this  grand 
name  —  Republic,  a  word  significant  only  of  disaster 
and  mourning.  They  will  accuse  you  of  having  given, 
by  your  excesses,  an  eternal  pretext  to  the  cowardly  — 
an  eternal  excuse  to  tyrants!  Permit  me  to  finish,  you 
can  teach  me  nothing.  I  know  only  too  well  with 
what  arguments  you  are  accustomed  to  sustain  your 
fanaticism.  I  do  not  pretend  to  argue  with  you,  but 
go  question  my  soldiers,  ask  them  if  they  need  to  be 
spurred  on  to  victory,  by  the  sinister  noises  with  which 
you  fill  our  land.  Inhumanity  is  not  strength !  Hatred 
is  not  justice !  The  Republic  is  not  terror !  I  have 
confessed  my  faith  under  the  lifted  battle  axe  of  your 
all-powerful  friends.  I  have  been  a  guest  in  their  dun 
geons,  and  if  I  left  them,  only  to  submit  to  degrading 
supervision  and  control,  it  is  quite  time  that  their 
doors  should  be  again  opened  to  receive  me.  Go  you 
now,   go   and  denounce   me;   the   comite*  shall  judge 


120  LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

between  us ;  but  believe  me,  citizen,  you  had  best  make 
no  imprudent  trial  of  your  strength ;  you  may  readily 
believe  that  my  patience  is  at  an  end  as  well  as  your 
own,  and  no  one  shall,  in  my  presence,  provoke  my 
soldiers  to  insubordination.     Adieu." 

During  this  explosion  of  a  storm  long  gathering,  and 
long  contained  within  the  soul  of  the  young  General- 
in-Chief,  the  face  of  his  companion  had  first  changed 
to  a  deep  crimson,  which,  fading  away,  left  it  of  a  livid 
pallor.  His  agitated  lips  refused  to  frame  words  in 
which  to  express  his  rage.  He  could  reply  only  with 
a  smothered  exclamation  to  this  abrupt  dismissal  of  his 
rival,  and  turning  on  his  heel,  left  the  room  with  a 
threatening  gesture  of  his  uplifted  hand. 

But  the  time  was  already  past,  when  a  sign  from 
such  a  hand  could  stiffen  into  death,  the  brow  on  which 
glory  had  set  its  seal;  and  if  weighed  in  the  scales, 
the  talents,  and  the  services  of  the  conqueror  of 
Wissembourg  would  have  had  more  Weight  than  fero- 
cious puritanism  and  the  barbaric  virtues  of  the 
survivor  of  Thermidor. 

More  than  once  before  —  this  period  of  the  Revolu- 
tionary epoch,  had  the  tent  of  the  Republican  generals 
been  the  theatre  of  scenes  like  this  which  we  have 
endeavored  to  bring  before  the  eyes  of  our  readers,  but 
very  often  in  the  intimacy  of  their  military  households, 
the  officers  in  command  gave  a  free  vent  to  the  bitter 
discouragement  engendered  in  their  hearts  by  the  over- 
shadowing   presence    of   the    Representatives.      They 


LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY.  121 

beheld  the  unity  and  d.gnity  of  the  Commanders  com 
promised,  the  science  of  war,  or  the  inspiration  of  h 
battle-field,  argued  upon,  and  thwarted  by  the  cold 
objections  of  men  who  knew  nothing  of  military 
matters.  Such  were  the  avowed  texts  of  the  often 
fatal  discords. 

But  to  these  must  be  added  the  sense  of  divided 
power,  of  wounded  pride,  and  the  many  other  mean 
emotions,  which  effect  a  lodgment  even  in  heroic 
natures. 

History  has  registered  some  of  the  ignorant  and 
presumptuous  acts,  of  which  the  Republican  Generals 
insist  that  their  civil  colleagues  were  guilty,  but,  in 
strict  justice,  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  among  the 
lawyers  and  legislators  out  of  place  on  the  battle-field, 
more  than  one  nobly  upheld  our  flag,  and  assisted  our 
wounded  veterans  in  their  hour  of  need. 

After  the  Therm idorienne  reaction,  the  greater  part 
of  the  Representatives  who  had  been  sent  to  the  fron- 
tiers and  to  the  west,  on  duty,  feeling  that  they  were 
no  longer  fully  sustained  by  the  central  authority,  had 
allowed  their  r61e  to  be  modified  by  circumstances,  and 
permitted  their  weakened  sovereignty  to  slip  from  their 
hands.  Some  among  them,  however,  either  from  a  lack 
of  sagacity,  or  from  a  determination  to  resist  the  new 
order  of  things,  continued  in  their  previous  course. 
Among  these  last,  was  the  man  whom  we  have  just  pre- 
sented to  our  readers.  His  reputation  for  courage  and 
honesty,  had  caused  him  t>  be  respected  by  the  muas- 


122  LIBERTY     AND     EQUALITY. 

ures  of  purification,  which  followed  the  triumph  of  the 
moderate  party,  but  his  ungovernable  temper,  his  preju- 
dices, and  even  his  very  virtues,  were  so  in  excess,  that 
his  relations  with  the  young  General-in-Chief,  were  soon 
tinged  with  bitterness,  which  was  rapidly  amounting  to 
hatred.  We  have  just  seen  the  decision  with  which 
the  youthful  commander  discharged  his  debt  toward 
his  redoubtable  adversary. 


GflfflRAL    HOCHK.  133 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

GENERAL     HOCHE. 

WE  are  conscious  that  we  should  apologize  for 
placing  in  the  corner  of  our  lightly  sketched 
picture,  one  of  the  most  brilliant,  as  well  as  one  of  the 
purest,  figures  of  our  Revolutionary  annals  —  Lazan 
Hoche,  then  General-in-Chief  of  the  army,  on  the  coast 
of  Brest,  who  was  soon  to  unite  under  his  command,  all 
the  forces  of  the  Republic,  in  Brittany  and  Vendee, 
had  not  yet  reached  his  twr  nty-seventh  birth-day.  His 
tall  figure,  the  singular  beauty  of  his  features,  the 
soldier-like. and  frank  expression  of  his  face,  the  modest 
gravity  of  his  bearing,  were  all  indicative  of  strength  and 
intellect;  he  imposed  respect,  and  won  confidence.  Like 
the  Roman  Ambassador,  the  young  hero  of  the  new 
Republic  carried  in  his  face,  menaces  of  war,  and  prom- 
ises of  peace.  He,  alone,  through  the  peculiar  qualities 
of  his  rare  genius,  was  able  to  bring  back  to  the  French 
nationality  those  brave  and  unhappy  Provinces,  then 
separated  by  an  abyss  of  blood ;  he,  in  all  probability, 
was  the  only  man,  who  in  that  upheaval  of  anarchical 
passions,  and  gigantic  ambitions,  wherein  perished  our 
first  Republic,  had  opposed  with  success,  the  pow- 
erful and  disinterested  personality  of  a  Washington. 
To   him,   at    least,   has   been   given   the    honor    of  a 


124  GENERAL     HOCHE. 

posthumous  rivalry  with  him,  who  placed  glory  above 
liberty. 

But  Providence  marked  with  narrow  limits  this  bril- 
liant existence.  The  illustrious  Republican,  inscribed 
his  name  in  letters  of  gold  upon  the  page  of  history, 
but  the  characters  were  written  with  feverish  haste,  as 
if  ke  had  been  moved  by  some  sad  presentiment.  On 
that  haughty  face,  and  in  his  very  smile,  one  could  see 
that  melancholy  that  still  lends,  after  the  lapse  of  cen- 
turies, so  touching  a  grace  to  the  recollection  of 
Germanicus,  a  quality  which  is  lacking  when  we  think 
of  Caesar. 

It  is  one  of  the  misfortunes,  if  not  one  of  the  crimes 
of  a  novel  writer,  that  he  is  compelled  to  reduce  to  the 
most  puerile  proportions,  these  giants  of  history.  He 
can,  in  truth,  offer  as  an  excuse,  that  interest  with 
which  we  always  see  these  demi-gods  descend  from 
their  pedestal,  and  stand  on  the  common  ground  with 
the  rest  of  humanity ;  but  carpers  have  none  the  less 
the  right  to  complain,  and  to  say,  that  they  are  reminded 
of  a  child  who  in  his  play,  pretends  to  utilize  the  most 
formidable  machinery  of  war  and  industry.  However 
this  may  be,  as  we  are  convinced  that  errors  acknowl- 
edged, are,  at  least,  half  pardoned,  we  resume  with 
lightened  conscience,  the  thread  of  our  recital. 

The  General,  relieved  of  the  presence  of  his  foe,  did 
not  move  for  some  moments.  Then,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  abandons  himself  to  the  consequences  of  an 
irreparable  act,  and  wishes  to  give  no  further  thought 


GENERAL     HOCHE.  125 

to  it  for  a  time,  be  rose  and  went  to  a  window  looking 
out  on  the  court.  He,  apparently,  did  not  see,  that  for 
which  he  was  looking,  and  he  began  to  pace  the  room 
impatiently,  stopping  to  look  .  at  a  clock,  or  from  the 
window  again. 

More  than  one  quick  exclamation  escaped  his  lips. 
"  What  a  deception  !  Men  are  all  alike  !  a  hard  lesson  ! 
his  dupe !  his  plaything !  what  misfortunes  he  will 
cause,  and  what  bloodshed.  An  insult  to  me,  a  public 
crime.     Poor  wretch ! " 

A  light  tap  on  the  door  came  at  this  moment ;  the 
General  said  "  come  in,"  in  anything  but  a  persuasive 
tone. 

The  door  opened  slowly,  and  Commandant  Herv^  de 
Pelven  presented  himself. 

General  Hoche  advanced  slowly  to  meet  the  man, 
whom  only  an  hour  before  he  had  gladly  called  his 
friend,  and  fixing  his  eyes  upon  him,  began  to  examine 
his  face  with  curiosity,  as  if  to  discover  under  those 
well  known  and  aristocratic  features,  some  secret  sign, 
some  hideous  suggestion  of  treachery. 

Concluding  this  examination  with  an  expressive 
shrug  of  his  shoulders,  he  seated  himself  on  a  corner 
of  the  table  where  his  sword  lay,  and  looking  Pelven 
full  in  the  eyes,  he  said: 

"  Where  is  Francis  ?  " 

This  question  aroused  Herv  1  from  the  silent  aston- 
ishment in  which  he  had  been  thrown  by  this  most 
unaccountable  reception. 


126  GENERAL     HOCHE. 

"  I  ask  where  Francis  is,"  repeated  the  General, 
raising  his  voice,  "  what  have  you  done  with  him  ?  " 

"  Francis  is  in  the  courtyard,"  answered  Pelven, 
"we  came  together." 

"  Ah !  Tell  me,  sir,  I  beg  of  you,  if  you  have  suc- 
ceeded in  all  your  plans." 

"  I  have,  sir,"  replied  Herve,  coldly,  his  pride  was 
wounded  by  this  manner,  so  different  from  the  cordial 
familiarity  to  which  he  was  accustomed. 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  learn  this,  for  your  sake,  as  well  as 
mine." 

"  I  must  confess,  General,  that  I  do  not  understand 
you." 

"  Ah !  you  can  tell  me,  however,  how  the  Chouans 
are  flourishing  in  the  country." 

"  I  can  tell  you,  General,  that  from  all  I  have  seen, 
I  am  convinced  that  an  insurrection  is  impending.  We 
even  heard  artillery  late  last  night." 

"  Indeed !  It  seems  then  that  your  expedition  has 
been  a  dangerous  one  ?  You  will  have  your  reward  if 
there  be  justice  in  this  world!  But  in  the  meantime,  I 
wish  to  congratulate  you  on  the  specialty,  which  you 
have  had  the  good  taste  to  select;  never  did  I  see  a 
mask  of  infamy,  that  bore  so  close  a  resemblance  to  the 
face  of  an  honest  man." 

The  young  Commandant  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his 
hair. 

"I  cannot  but  see,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  looked  upon 
as  a   criminal.     I  was  warned  of  this,  but  I  thought 


GENERAL     HOCEE.  12? 

that  from  General  Hoche,  an  explanation  would  pr.eet.de 
an  insult." 

Hervd's  manner  and  tore  shook  the  convictions  of 
the  General,  but  before  he  could  speak,  his  attention 
was  drawn  to  the  courtyard,  by  the  stamping  of  horses, 
followed  by  a  tumult  of  voices,  and,  almost  instantly 
Francis  appeared  in  an  evident  state  of  excitement, 
and  with  letters  in  his  hand. 

"  Excuse  me,  General,"  he  said,  "  but  these  are  dis- 
patches brought  by  two  dragoons  from  Humbert  and 
Duhesme.     It  seems  that  the  excitement  is  spreading." 

The  General,  with  a  friendly  tap  on  the  shoulder  of 
the  boyish  Lieutenant,  opened  the  dispatches  hastily, 
and  ran  them  over  muttering  confused  exclamations. 
Then  throwing  the  papers  on  the  floor  he  addressed 
Francis  in  a  tone  of  suppressed  rage. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said,  "  you  will  in  this  moment,  take  a 
great  step  in  your  experience  of  life.  Here  is  Mon- 
sieur Pelven,  our  mutual  friend :  look  at  him  well,  and 
remember  all  the  rest  of  your  life  that  under  that  loyal 
physiognomy  we  have  loved  so  well,  lies  hidden  the  soul 
of  a  spy  and  a  traitor." 

et  Some  one  has  lied  to  you,  General,"  said  Herve*, 
coldly,  while  an  exclamation  of  terrified  incredulity 
broke  from  the  lips  of  the  young  Lieutenant. 

"I  doubted,  while  doubt  was  possible,"  answered 
Ilocho,  "but  Monsieur  de  Pelven,  your  negligence  is 
unpardonable,  for  experience  should  have  taught  you 
that  spies  were  dangerous  things." 


128  GENEBAL     HOCHB. 

As  he  spoke  lie  laid  before  the  two  young  officers,  & 
bit  of  crumpled  paper,  stained  with  mud,  on  which  was 
written  these  words: 

"Pass  Comte  Herve  de  Pelven,  field-marshal  of  the 
Catholic  and  Royal  army.     Signed :     Charette." 

Herv6*  looked  at  his  Lieutenant,  and  murmured  the 
name — "  Bell  ah." 

44  This  pass,"  continued  the  General,  "  was  found  by 
one  of  our  secret  agents,  at  a  place  at  Kergant,  where 
you  encamped  for  the  night.  If  other  proofs  were 
wanting,  this  is  enough  in  itself.  Now  sir,  have  you 
anything  to  say  in  defence  of  your  life,  for  I  warn  you 
that  it  is  in  danger?     Take  off  your  sword,  sir." 

Herve*  unbuckled  his  sword,  and  handed  it  to 
Francis,  who  received  it  with  trembling  hands. 

"General,  said  the  young  Commandant,  "I  swear 
before  God  that  I  am  not  guilty.  I  am  overwhelmed 
by  appearances,  to  which  I  can  oppose  nothing  but  my 
word.  That  pass  is  authentic,  but  it  was  never  in  my 
possession,  I  refused  it.  I  may  add  that  these  men 
whom  you  suppose  to  be  my  friends,  attempted  my  life 
five  days  since." 

"Did  they  wound  you?  "  asked  H^he  eagerly,  "can 
you  show  me  a  wound  ?  " 

"I  can  not,  unfortunately." 

"  But,  General,"  cried  Frauds,  "  I  was  tnere,  i  saw  it 
all,  they  knocked  down  and  stunned  the  Commandant.*' 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  the  General,  coldly.  "  Enough, 
Francis/* 


GENERAL     HOCHE.  129 

"You  are  not  a  child,  Monsieur  cle  Pelven,"  he  con- 
tinued, "and  you  know  enough  to  realize  the  inevitable 
conclusion  of  this  matter.  Shall  it  end  here  between 
us  two,  or  shall  I  summon  a  court  of  inquiry  ?  " 

"  I  desire  no  other  judge  than  yourself,  General." 

44  You  may  be  certain  that  you  will  have  none  more 
disposed  in  your  favor.  You  have  deceived  me 
strangely,  cruelly  deceived  me,  I  may  say.  There  may 
have  been  a  certain  amount  of  courage  and  sagacity 
evinced  in  your  role,  but  it  is  certainly  not  one  that  I 
should  have  coveted  had  I  been  in  your  place.     I  was 

very  far,  sir ,"  and  the  General's  voice  faltered  and 

became  almost  tender,  "  I  was  very  far  from  imagining 
that  our  friendly  relations  would  end  like  this;  it  is 
with  profound  sorrow " 

The  General,  disturbed  by  the  sobs  which  Francis 
could  no  longer  restrain,  suddenly  ceased  to  speak. 
He  opened  the  door,  and  calling  to  one  of  the  soldiers 
in  the  ante-chamber,  he  said  to  him, 

44  Citizen  Pelven  is  your  prisoner,  you  are  responsible 
for  him.  Lieutenant  Francis,  wait  for  me  in  that 
room." 

The  young  Lieutenant  turned  on  his  protector  a 
supplicating  glance,  but  an  imperious  gesture  quick- 
ened his  steps,  and  the  door  of  an  adjoining  room  closed 
upon  him. 

44  Monsieur  Pelven,"  the  General  then  resumed, 
"they  wish  to  carry  you  off  to  prison,  and  from  thence 
you  know  where.  I  took  it  for  granted,  however, 
9 


130  GENERAL     HOC  HE. 

notwithstanding  all  that  has  passed,  that  you  would 
prefer  the  death  of  a  soldier." 

u  Thanks,  General,"  said  Herve*. 

u  You  have  fifteen  minutes,  sir." 

Hoche  turned  away  quickly,  as  he  finished  these 
words,  and  closing  the  door,  summoned  Francis  to  join 
him  in  the  ante-room.  An  old  corporal  saluted  him 
respectfully.     The  General  called  him. 

"  Take  fifteen  men,"  he  said,  "  inarch  them  into  the 
field  on  the  left  of  the  farm,  load  your  pieces  and  wait 
for  the  man  I  shall  send  you." 

The  General,  leaving  Francis  stunned  and  motion- 
less, went  out  of  the  room. 

Our  readers  will  probably  have  noticed  with  surprise, 
that  no  adequate  explanation  had  taken  place  between 
the  judge  and  the  accused,  that  the  latter  had  no  idea 
of  the  nature  or  of  the  extent  of  the  crime  imputed 
to  him ;  but  on  the  one  side,  the  General  believed  that 
he  had  nothing  to  learn ;  and  on  the  other,  Pelven  felt 
that  all  that  had  happened,  was  but  the  logical 
sequence  of  the  plots  and  manoeuvres,  which  aimed  at 
attaching  him  to  the  Royalists,  by  causing  him  to  be 
suspected  by  his  party. 

In  the  days  in  which  Pelven  lived,  not  half  of  this 
proof  was  needed  for  his  condemnation,  and  thus  he 
saw  verified,  the  prediction  made  by  Mademoiselle  de 
Kergant  among  the  Dru  d  stones,  as  well  as  his  own 
vague  apprehensions,  by  which  he  had  been  haunted 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  of  this  disastrous 
expedition. 


GENERAL     HOCHE.  131 

Herve\  left  under  the  care  of  the  sentinel,  was 
seeking  to  render  himself  master  of  the  instinctive 
revolt  of  the  chaos  of  ideas  and  feelings  necessarily 
awakened  in  every  human  being  by  the  near  approach 
of  death.  His  eyes,  in  spite  of  himself,  were  riveted 
on  the  hands  of  the  clock ;  something  like  the  breath 
of  the  biblical  vision,  seemed  to  waver  before  it  and 
cover  it  with  a  white  cloud.  Passing  his  hand  hastily 
over  his  brow,  the  young  man  started  to  his  feet,  and, 
after  pacing  the  room  once  or  twice,  drew  a  long 
breath,  as  i£  he  felt  that  he  was  victorious  in  the  strug- 
gle through  which  he  had  come.  He  seated  himself  at 
the  table  and  wrote  a  few  hasty  lines  intended  for  his 
sister.  Ten  minutes  had  elapsed,  and  he  was  still 
writing,  when  a  slight  noise  made  him  turn  towards 
the  door ;   standing  there  he  saw  Hoche. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  if  I  disturb  you,"  said  the  General, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  those  of  the  young  man,  "  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  you  can  have  no  objection  now,  to 
telling  me  the  name  of  the  Bourbon,  who,  in  his 
feminine  disguise,  and  in  the  suite  of  your  relatives, 
was  landed  on  the  3oast  of  Brittany  through  your  kind 
assistance  ?  " 

At  this  clearly  stated  question,  such  an  expression 
of  utter  stupefaction  appeared  on  Herve"s  usually  keen 
face,  that  the  General  smiled  faintly. 

"  I  knew  it  General !  I  would  have  wagered  my 
head  on  it,"  cried  Francis,  rushing  into  the  room. 

M  Be  off  with  you,"  said  Hoche,  with  an  impatient 


135  GENERAL     HOCHE. 

gesture,  which  the  youthful  aide-de-camp  did  not  see 
lit  to  obey. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Monsieur  Pelven,"  continued  the 
General,  "  that  you  did  not  suppose  me  to  be  so  well 
informed." 

44  He  is  innocent,  General !  "  cried  Francis,  in  a  state 
of  intense  excitement. 

"  Upon  my  honor,  General,"  stammered  Herve*,  "  I 
know  nothing  of  what  you  are  saying." 

A  smile  appeared  on  the  young  General's  handsome 
face. 

"Vive  la  Republique ! "  shouted  Francis,  throwing  his 
arm  around  Pelven's  neck. 

"  You  see,  Commandant,"  said  Hoche,  "that  the  con- 
fidence and  affection  of  your  Lieutenant  are  unshaken, 
but  you  will  excuse  me  if  I  feel  differently.  You  are 
guilty  of  the  most  excessive  imprudence,  if  of  nothing 
worse.  The  truth  is,  we  have  —  thanks  to  you,  —  a 
Bourbon  once  more  among  us.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
enumerate  the  misfortunes  which  are  sure  to  come  in 
his  train,  but  how  is  it  possible  for  me  to  believe,  that 
your  suspicions  were  not  aroused  during  your  long 
journey  ?  " 

A  pin-hole  letting  in  the  tiniest  shaft  of  light  upon 
a  drama  by  which  we  have  been  duped,  is  often  enough 
to  enable  us  to  understand  a  mystery  that  has  puzzled 
us  for  a  long  time. 

Thus  it  was  that  Herve's  memory  instantly  recalled 
all  the  equivocal  situations  of  his  journey,  the  extreme 


GfctfEfcAL    nOCHfc.  133 

reserve  of  the  Scotch  woman,  the  scenes  at  the  chateau 
de  la  Groac'h,  the  words,  and  strange  persistence  of 
Bellah,  that  night  among  the  Druid  stones,  and  finally 
the  person  who  had  followed  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant 
in  her  nocturnal  expedition.  This  last  recollection 
penetrated  the  wounded  heart  of  the  young  man  more 
deeply  than  any  other. 

"  General,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  bejuggled  in  the 
most  shameful  manner.  My  sister  is  a  mere  child,  who 
thought  the  whole  affair  an  excellent  joke.  As  to  the 
others " 

Commandant  Pelven  finished  his  sentence  with  a 
prolonged  shake  of  the  head,  and  an  expression  indi- 
cating the  bitterest  resentment. 

The  General  went  toward  a  window,  where  he  stood 
some  minutes,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy  and  a 
frown  on  his  brow,  as  if  undecided  and  irresolute;  then, 
turning  round,  he  said  abruptly : 

u  Suppose  I  were  to  give  you  your  liberty,  Pelven, 
what  use  would  you  make  of  it?  Of  course  you  see 
that  you  could  no  longer  remain  on  my  staff.  Now, 
then,  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  would  go  straight  to  the  Chouans,  straight  to  the 
Prince,  if  Prince  there  be." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  " 

"  I  should  resume  my  rank  and  my  title,"  continued 
the  young  man,  hotly,  "for  I  should  require  all 
the  privileges  which  they  would  give,  and  I  should 
say  to  the  hero  of  this  comedy,  played  at  my  expense : 


134  GENERAL    nOCHE. 

Monsieur,  or  Monseigneiu,  I  care  little 'which,  for  I  am 
a  gentleman  like  yourself  —  I  wish  to  Void  you  to 
account,  for  the  perilous  position  in  which  you  have 
placed,  not  my  life,  for  that  after  all,  is  of  small  import, 
but  my  honor." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Herve*,"  and  the  General  laughed 
heartily  and  deliciously,  a  laugh  that  had  in  it  unmis- 
takable evidence  of  his  youth,  "  upon  my  word,"  he 
repeated,  "  if  you  are  mad,  I  like  your  kind  of  madness. 
I  am  not  a  man  of  high  birth,  as  you  well  know,  but  I 
can  appreciate  your  audacity,  and  your  determination. 
This  project  is  preposterous,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  I 
should  do  the  same,  were  I  in  your  place,  and  therefore 
I  shall  not  oppose  it.  Whatever  the  result  may  be,  I 
am  sure  your  friends  will  hold  you  blameless ;  is  not 
that  so,  Francis  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  with  him,"  said  Francis,  quickly,  "  I  wish 
to  see  the  ladies  of  the  court." 

"Indeed!  I  think  you  will  require  my  permission 
first.  You,  Pelven,  will  take  your  sword,  but  I  advise 
you  to  discard  your  uniform.  You  must  also  take  good 
care  of  your  unfortunate  pass,  as  without  it  you  cannot 
reach  these  gentlemen;  wait  a  moment,"  continued 
the  General,  writing  a  couple  of  lines  rapidly  on  a 
square  of  paper.  "  Hide  this  in  the  lining  of  your  coat, 
as  you  may  need  it  with  the  Republic." 

"  I  am  overwhelmed  by  your  kindness,  raon  General." 

"  I  would  like  you  to  forget  the  last  half  hour, 
Pelven ;  go  now.  May  God  guard  you  !  I  hope  you 
leave  me  with  no  hard  feelings." 


GENERA!      HOCHE,  135 

Herve*  took  the  two  Lands  extended  by  the  Gene- 
ral, and  said  with  some  emotion, 

"Adieu,  General.  I  go  to  purchase  the  right  of 
seeing  you  again,  and  of  continuing  to  serve  you." 

"  Not  me,  Pelven,  but  France,  the  Republic." 

"  That  is  what  I  mean,"  said  Herve,  bowing  low,  with 
affectionate  respect,  and,  accompanied  by  Francis,  left 
the  room. 

A  few  minutes  later,  and  Pelven  and  his  boyish 
Lieutenant  galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  Rhiems,  but 
after  going  two  leagues,  Herv^  took  a  cross  road  in 
order  to  avoid  the  town,  which  might  be  dangerous  for 
hini.  There  the  two  young  men  separated,  two  hours 
before  sunset,  one  to  return  to  his  General-in-chief,  the 
other  to  incur  all  the  perils,  toward  which  he  was 
impelled,  contrary  to  all  prudence,  by  the  combined 
sentiments  of  a  man  who  had  been  trifled  with  and 
insulted.,  and  by  those  of  a  jealous  lover. 


ICG  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

A    SOLITARY     JOURNEY. 


f  I'M  IE  next  day,  at  the  same  hour  of  the  afternoon, 
JL  Commandant  Pelven,  in  undress  uniform,  was 
riding  on  the  road  from  Ple'lan  to  Ploermel.  He  was 
urging  on  his  horse,  that  he  might  reach  the  latter 
village  before  the  storm  which  darkened  the  sky  should 
break.  Black  clouds  were  sweeping  up  from  the 
horizon,  not  a  leaf  stirred,  but  at  intervals  the  dust  on 
the  road  showed  large  drops  of  water.  The  whole 
country  lay  in  that  uneasy  silence,  that  solemn  calm  in 
which  Nature  seems  to  wrap  herself  at  the  approach  of 
danger.  Suddenly  a  flash  of  lightning  tore  the  clouds 
apart,  a  terrible  clap  of  thunder  reverberated  through 
the  air,  and  at  the  same  moment  rain  and  hail  came 
down  in  a  perfect  deluge.  The  horse  of  our  traveller, 
blinded  by  the  rain,  dazzled  by  the  lightning,  swerved 
to  the  side  of  the  road  and  stopped  short,  then  with  a 
leap  started  off  at  full  gallop. 

Pelven  made  an  ineffectual  effort  to  restrain  the 
animal,  but  finally  gave  up  the  attempt,  resigning 
himself,  with  a  certain  pleasure,  to  this  mad  ride — 
when,  at  a  turn  of  the  road,  he  was  nearly  unseated  by 
running  into  a  party  of  some  ten  or  more  horsemen, 
who  passed  like  a  whirlwind.     Herve*  had  only  time  to 


A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  137 

see  that  they  were  dragoons  of  the  Republic,  and  to 
ask  them  why  they  were  riding  in  such  hot  haste ;  but 
the  rapidity  of  the  pace  at  which  he  was  going,  and  the 
formidable  noise  of  the  tempest  did  not  permit  him  to 
hear  their  reply.  He  saw,  however,  that  one  of  the 
soldiers  turned  in  his  saddle,  and  made  him  a  sign 
which  he  understood  to  mean  that  there  was  danger  in 
the  road  he  was  going. 

A  half  a  league  further  on,  Pelven  saw  another 
small  party  of  horsemen  coming  toward  him,  with  the 
same  indications  of  haste.  The  young  Commandant, 
who  by  this  time  had  regained  control  of  his  horse, 
now  drew  up  across  the  road,  and  made  a  sign  to  the 
fugitives — for  these  people  had  that  air — to  stop.  The 
horsemen  did  not  attempt  to  oppose  the  solitary  indi- 
vidual who  checked  them,  but  simply  divided  in  two 
parties,  who,  passing  Herve*,  met  together  again  behind 
him. 

"Scoundrels!"  shouted  the  young  man  in  his  indig- 
nation. At  the  same  moment  he  wheeled  his  horse  and 
started  in  pursuit.  Catching  a  dragoon  by  his  floating 
scarf,  he  said  with  angry  vehemence : 

u  Where  the  deuce  are  you  going  at  this  rate  ? 

"  To  Plelan — to  the  Republican  camp." 

"  And  by  whom  are  you  pursued  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,  sir !  They  said  at  Ploermel 
that  the  Chouans  were  coming.  I  did  not  believe  it, 
but  I  followed  my  comrades." 

"  And  who  are  you?     Where  do  you  belong?" 


138  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

"To  the  Humbert  division,  which  ought  to  be  at 
Quimpan  now — but  we  were  cut  off  from  our  brigade 
in  the  rout." 

"  Rout !     Rascal,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Just  that,  mon  officier — and  I  advise  you  not  to 
walk  about  for  your  pleasure  beyond  Ploermel.  That 
is  a  part  of  the  country  which  is  just  now  as  hot  as  the 
tropics." 

"  And  who  is  in  command  of  the  Chouans  ?  " 

"  Somebody  who  does  not  know  what  fear  is,  and 
who,  moreover,  is  as  handsome  as  a  picture." 

"  But  who  is  he,  animal?" 

"  Who  is  he  ?  Why  the  ci-devant  Prince — their  god, 
their  idol !  They  say  it  was  one  of  our  officers  who 
helped  him  land.     My  compliments  to  him !  " 

"  Tell  me,"  interrupted  Hei've*,  eagerly ;  "  tell  me 
where  the  skirmish  took  place." 

"At  Pluvignse,  and  another  at  Camois.  And  we 
did  not  disgrace  our  flag,  mon  officier.  At  Camois  we 
were  protected  by  a  thick  wood,  and  we  spent  twelve 
hours  dancing  from  tree  to  tree.  We  had  a  good 
chance  to  look  at  our  enemy,  I  assure  you.  I  saw  their 
dear  Prince  at  my  ease.  I  even  heard  him  say  that 
our  soldiers  were  the  bravest  he  had  ever  seen." 

"  That  was  a  compliment,  certainly ;  but  where  are 
the  Blues  now?"  said  Herve*,  gravely. 

"  Where  are  they  ?  "  repeated  the  dragoon.  "  Who 
can  say.  I  only  know,  mon  officier,  that  they  have  all 
disappeared — infantry,    cavalry,  and   all.      The   very 


A    SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  W9 

cannon  they  took,  and  the  ammunition  have  one  and  all 
been  apparently  swallowed  up  in  the  earth.  There  is 
not  a  brace  of  them  left.  The  country  is  as  peaceful 
as  a  summer  morning,  but  we  feel  as  if  we  were 
walking  on  a  volcano.  Are  you  not  going  with  us,  mon 
officier?" 

44  No,"  answered  Herve\  44  And  }^ou,  my  friend,  had 
better  make  haste  out  of  this  rain." 

The  dragoon,  carrying  his  hand  to  his  hat,  took 
from  Pelven  with  the  other  the  piece  of  silver,  which 
was  a  great  rarity  in  these  days,  and  went  off  at  full 
gallop. 

A  half  hour  later,  the  young  Commandant  leaped 
from  his  horse  before  an  inn  on  the  roadside,  a  gunshot 
from  Ploermel,  whose  modest  facade  was  decorated 
with  the  traditional  bush,  this  time  in  the  form  of  a 
branch  from  a  pear  tree. 

Entrusting  his  horse  to  a  boy  in  sabots,  who  examined 
him  with  manifest  suspicion,  Pelven  entered  the  kitchen 
of  the  inn,  where  three  peasants  were  seated  in  front  of, 
a  huge  chimney,  talking  in  a  low  voice,  but  with  great 
excitement.  They  rose  respectfully,  ceased  speaking, 
and  withdrew,  after  each  looking  at  the  uniform  worn 
by  Herve"  with  most  unfriendly  glances.  The  hostess, 
a  woman  of  about  forty,  strongly  built  and  with  a 
bright  color  in  her  full  face,  had  not  at  first  seemed 
over  pleased  with  the  guest  sent  her  by  heaven  and  the 
etorm,  but  by  degrees  she  was  conquered  by  the  young 
man's  handsome  face  and  by  the  politeness  with  which 


140  A    SOLITARY    JOtTRNEf. 

lie  addressed  her,  and  her  countenance  softening  into 
\  smile,  she  finally  said  she  would  do  all  she  could  for 
the  gentleman.  Here  she  corrected  herself  and  said 
hastily,  "for  the  worthy  citizen." 

While  his  supper  was  being  prepared  by  this  woman, 
Herve*  took  his  seat  on  one  of  the  benches  in  the 
chimney  corner,  and  while  he  dried  his  boots,  asked 
what  was  going  on  in  that  part  of  the  country,  to 
which  the  discreet  matron  replied,  that  there  was 
nothing  new,  nothing  worth  repeating ;  as  for  herself, 
she  thought  it  best  not  to  talk  too  much,  but  to  mind 
her  own  business. 

Quite  disposed  to  agree  with  her  on  this  point,  .Serve* 
replied  that  he  was  only  a  traveller  who  had  no  inten- 
tion of  extorting  from  her  any  secrets,  and  that  he  only 
wished  to  know  if  there  were  any  prospect  of  the 
Royalists  arriving  at  Ploermel. 

The  prudent  hostess  was  not  to  be  deluded  into 
making  any  reply,  however. 

During  supper,  Herve*  complimented  her  on  her 
culinary  talent,  and  on  the  cleanliness  of  everything 
about  the  house,  after  which  he  made  another,  effort, 
and  asked  if  he  could  travel  without  danger  of  being 
molested. 

The  hostess  replied  that,  thanks  to  God,  she  was  not 
in  the  habit  of  poisoning  people  who  supped  with  her, 
and  if  the  young  gentleman,  or  rather  the  good  citizen 
to  whom  she  was  speaking,  should  conclude  to  stop 
under  her  roof,  he  would  see  that  the  sheets  were  clean 


A    SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  Ill 

and  sweet,  even  if  they  were  coarse ;  as  for  the  security 
of  the  country  round  Ploermel,  she  was  sure  she  could 
not  answer,  as  things  were  going  on  constantly  of 
whicli  she  knew  nothing ;  at  the  same  time  she  should 
think  it  quite  as  well  if  the  young  gentleman  should 
stay  where  he  was,  rather  than  continue  his  journey, 
although  she  knew  nothing  which  should  deter  him. 

Herve*  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  this 
unsatisfactory  advice  and  information,  the  desultory 
nature  of  which  we  have  endeavored  to  lay  before  our 
readers.  He  at  last  rose  from  the  table,  and  saying  to 
his  hostess  that  he  was  going  to  take  a  little  walk,  and 
wished  his  room  to  be  in  readiness  when  he  returned, 
he  went  out.  He  returned  an  hour  later,  bringing 
with  him  a  large  bundle.  He  paid  his  bill,  saying  that 
he  should  be  off  early  in  the  morning,  before  any  one 
was  up,  and  then  retired  to  his  chamber,  on  the  delights 
of  which  his  hostess  expatiated  most  fluently. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  dew  drops  sparkled  in 
A,he  fresh  June  sunlight,  a  solitary  horseman  was  slowly 
moving  along  a  high  road  to  the  west  of  Ploermel.  This 
traveller  was  a  man  in  the  spring  time  of  life.  A  broad 
brimmed  Viat,  partially  concealed  features  which  were 
too  aristocratic  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  coarse 
peasant's  clothing  which  he  wore.  Instead  of  a  whip 
he  held  a  stick  with  a  leather  thong ;  his  appearance, 
except  to  a  most  suspicious  observer,  was  that  of  a 
cattle  drover  on  a  holiday. 

After  going  about  a  league,  this  man   encountered 


14?  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

several  peasants  who  were  carrying  milk  to  the  town, 
and  who  looked  after  him  with  some  curiosity.  After 
this,  however,  he  met  not  another  human  being.  The 
few  houses  he  passed,  were  closed  and  as  deserted  as  if 
a  pestilence  had  swept  over  the  land.  In  this  strange 
solitude,  surrounded  by  the  work  of  man's  hands,  the 
traveller  felt  something  of  that  solemnity  and  awe  that 
one  feels  in  going  through  a  cemetery.  This  senti- 
ment was  mingled  with  a  certain  alarm,  for  more  than 
once,  as  the  young  man  looked  around,  he  fancied  that 
behind  the  tall  reeds,  with  their  yellow  blossoms,  he 
caught  sight  of  a  moving  figure. 

His  surprise  increased  and  his  heart  grew  heavier 
when  he  reached  a  little  village  lying  on  the  border  of 
a  pretty,  running  stream,  and  found  it  utterly  deserted. 
The  houses  were  all  standing  and  intact,  but  no  smoke 
issued  from  the  roofs ;  no  faces  appeared  at  the  win- 
dows, and  not  a  sound  came  from  within.  The 
traveller  heard  nothing  except  the  clang  of  the  iron 
shoes  of  his  horse  on  the  badty-paved  streets.  He 
adved  himself  what  had  become  of  the  infirm  and  the 
sick  —  the  old  people  and  young  children  —  and  shud- 
dered at  the  terrible  sincerity  and  energy  of  the  convic- 
tions or  sentiments  which  had  demanded  and  obtained 
so  violent  and  unanimous  a  sacrifice.  He  looked 
through  the  wide  open  doors  with  sad  curiosity;  at  all 
these  desolated  hearthstones,  these  deserted  shops  and 
silent  work-rooms ;  he  saw  the  empty  cradle  of  the 
child  by  the  side  of  the  grandmother's  vacant  chair, 


A    SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  143 

and  near  it  the  spinning-wheel,  now  dumb  and  motion- 
less, as  were  all  the  other  sweet  symbols  of  domestic 
peace.  His  heart  sank  within  him  at  the  sight,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  he  were  riding  through  one  of  those 
cities  suddenly  overtaken  by  the  eruption  of  a  volcano, 
from  which  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  the  winding- 
sheet  of  ashes  had  been  removed. 

The  horseman  hurried  through  the  village,  and 
crossed  the  bridge,  on  one  of  the  parapets  of  which, 
stood  a  stone  cross,  the  only  indication  of  that  hope 
which  brings  consolation  in  despair.  He  dismounted 
after  he  had  passed  a  chateau,  whose  moss-grown  towers 
would  have  attracted  his  attention,  and  excited  his 
interest  at  any  other  time.  He  took  his  saddle  from 
his  horse,  and  allowed  the  animal  to  graze  at  will  on  the 
rich  grass  that  grew  by  the  roadside,  under  some  mag- 
nificent oak  trees,  and  sitting  by  the  side  of  a  sparkling 
brook,  the  young  man  took  out  his  lunch  and  began  to 
eat  it,  listening  occasionally  to  ascertain  if  there  were 
really  no  sounds  except  those  of  the  insects  rejoicing  in 
the  sunshine.  A  harf  hour  later  he  was  again  on  his 
way,  but  hesitated  when  he  came  to  two  roads,  as  if 
uncertain  which  to  take;  but,  after  some  little  hesita- 
tion, he  took  that  which  led  in  a  southerly  direction. 

Two  leagues  farther  on,  the  traveller  saw  on  his 
right  the  ruins  of  a  burned  village,  and  perceiving  a 
thick  cloud  of  smoke  arising  from  a  meadow  near  by, 
he  rode  toward  it  in  spite  of  the  obstinate  refusal  of  his 
horse,  and  pushing  away  with  his  stick  the  branches  of 


144  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

a  thorny  hedge  all  covered  with  white  blossoms,  he 
saw  under  a  mass  of  smouldering  straw,  a  hideous  pile 
of  men  and  horses.  This  spectacle  drew  from  him  an 
exclamation  of  horror  and  disgust.  Turning  hastily, 
he  fled  from  the  accursed  spot.  Meanwhile  time  was 
passing,  the  sun  was  already  high  in  the  heavens,  and 
the  heat  was  intense.  After  leaving  these  odious  indi- 
cations of  the  vicinity  of  man,  the  traveller  went  on 
with  more  caution,  drawing  his  rein  occasionally  to 
listen.  But  around  him  the  silence  was  disturbed  only 
by  the  rustle  of  the  grass  in  the  gentle  breeze,  and  by 
the  sound  of  the  frogs  in  a  distant  marsh.  By  degrees, 
becoming  accustomed  to  this  almost  fantastic  isolation 
amid  a  cultivated  country,  he  ceased  to  think  of  it  and 
fell  into  a  profound  reverie.  He  had  reached  the  top 
of  a  long  and  heavy  hill,  when  a  sound  like  the  break- 
ing of  a  branch  attracted  his  attention,  and  caused  him 
to  look  toward  a  group  of  tall  beeches,  which  he  was 
about  to  pass. 

Seeing  nothing  to  excite  his  suspicions,  either  under 
the 'trees,  or  among  the  heavy  masses  of  verdure  cloth- 
ing their  branches,  he  was  riding  quietly  on,  when, 
suddenly,  a  second  thought  caused  him  to  look  back, 
and  he  was  startled  by  seeing  a  man's  face  among  the 
leaves.  One  eye  was  closed,  and  the  other  glittered 
with  a  ferocious  light.  At  the  same  moment  he  saw 
the  muzzle  of  a  gun. 

44  Hollo  ! "  shouted  the  horseman.  "  Are  Veudtans 
»hot  down  in  this  way  about  here  ?  " 


A     SOLITARY     JOURNEY.  145 

"Ah!"  answered  the  man  in  the  birch  tree,  "th*it  is 
quite  a  sensible  question!"  and  as  he  opened  his  o.ye 
and  moved  his  gun  a  little,  he  said:  "  Can  you  tell  me 
what  time  it  is  ?  " 

This  question,  simple  as  it  was,  considerably  embar- 
rassed the  adventurous  traveller,  for  he  at  once  realized 
that  he  was  expected  to  reply  with  a  pass-word  of 
which  he  was  absolutely  ignorant.  If  he  had  any 
doubt  on  that  point  it  was  speedily  removed,  by  seeing 
the  e}re  of  his  interrogator  close  again,  and  the  gun 
moved  back  to  its  original  position. 

"  You  are  making  a  mistake,  my  man,"  said  the 
traveller,  with  that  coolness  which  extreme  peril  often 
elicits ;  "  and  a  mistake  which  you  are  certain,  sooner 
or  later,  to  regret.  I  come -from  Anjou.  How  can  you 
expect  me  to  know  what  is  going  on  here.  Come 
down,"  he  continued,  in  a  tone  of  authority;  "come 
down,  and  I  will  show  you  a  pass  I  have  from  your 
people." 

As  he  finished  speaking,  he  drew  from  his  vest 
pocket  a  paper,  which  he  shook  with  an  imperious 
gesture. 

The  mysterious  personage  in  the  beech  tree  responded 
to  this  invitation,  with  an  eagerness  tempered  largely 
by  prudence.  As  he  emerged  from  his  leafy  screen,  the 
traveller  saw  that  he  wore  the  costume  of  a  Breton 
peasant.  He  glided  down  the  tree,  and  slowly 
approaching  the  stranger,  gun  in  hand,  he  took  at  a 
safe  distance  the  paper  presented  by  the  horseman ;  he 
10 


146  A    SOLITABT    JOURNEY. 

read  with  attention,  and  not  without  difficulty,  the  two 
lines  written  upon  it.  The  expression  of  savage 
distrust,  which  had  darkened  his  features,  gave  place 
to  a  look  of  joy ;  he  gave  a  knowing  wink  as  he 
returned  the  paper,  and  taking  off  his  hat,  he  said  with 
great  respect: 

"  And  my  master,  Monsieur  Charette,  is  well,  then  ?  " 

"Perfectly  well,  my  man.  You  took  me  for  a  spy,  it 
seems  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  did ;  a  spy  from  the  Blues." 

"  And  what  were  you  doing  in  that  tree  ?  " 

The  peasant  shook  his  head  with  a  knowing  air,  and 
smiling  from  ear  to  ear,  he  answered  almost  in  a 
whisper :  "  I  was  watching  for  them." 

"But  the  Blues  are  way  off;  I  left  them  at  Vitr^ 
day  before  yesterday." 

"  But  they  are  on  their  way  here,  sir ;  and  coming, 
too,  at  full  speed.  The  people  down  there,"  and  the 
peasant  pointed  to  the  North,  "  heard  it  yesterday,  and 
they  moved  away  in  the  night.  And  where,  sir,  may 
you  be  going?  to  Varennes?" 

"No;  to  Pluvignse;  I  expect  to  find  the  officers 
there  to  whom  I  bear  dispatches  from  the  General." 

y  What  officers  do  you  mean  ?  " 
'Why  —  what  are  their  names?"  and  the  horseman 
hesitated  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
Chouan. 

" Fleur-de-Lis,  you  mean?" 

"Ah!  yes;  precisely." 


A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  147 

"But  he  is  at  Kergant  —  you  are  going  away  from 
him ! " 

"At  Kergant?  Fleur-de-Lis ? "  and  the  horseman 
withdrew  his  hand  hastily. 

"Yes,  and  Monsieur  George,  too;  in  fact,  pretty 
much  all  of  our  chiefs  are  there  now." 

"  Then  I  must  retrace  my  steps.  I  was  told  that  you 
occupied  Pluvignse." 

"  Yes,  at  first ;  but  that  is  all  changed  now," 
answered  the  peasant,  with  a  little  frown,  as  if  trying 
to  understand  a  matter  beyond  his  comprehension. 
"They  will  tell  you  all  that,  though,  when  you  get 
there." 

"  And  how  do  you  all  like  Fleur-de-Lis  ?  " 

"  Holy  Virgin  !  How  do  we  like  Fleur-de-Lis !  "  and 
the  Breton  lifted  his  hat  from  his  head,  and.  in  his 
enthusiasm,  waved  it  in  the  air.  "  He  is  an  angel  of 
light.  You  will  see  him,  sir ;  he  looks  like  the  Saint 
George  that  hangs  over  the  grand  altar  in  our  parish 
church.  Good  Heavens  !  how  brave  Jie  is.  The  balls 
of  the  Blues  have  no  terrors  for  him  —  he  minds  them 
no  more  than  he  does  the  flowers  in  the  hedge  —  he  has 
a  great  black  horse,  too,  who  eats  powder  as  others 
eat  oats.  When  the  Blues  see  him  coming  they  cry 
out,  '  Here  is  the  devil !'  and  you  should  see  them  run  ! 
About  fifty  went  by  yesterday  morning ;  and,"  added 
the  peasant,  with  a  sinister  smile,  "  there  are  seven  or 
eight  now  lying  in  Marie  Brech's  meadow,  a  league 
from  here.  Perhaps,  sir,  you  smelled  the  roast  as  you 
?" 


148  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

At  this  question  the  traveller  started;  his  eyes 
flashed  and  his  hand  convulsively  clutched  the  stick  in 
his  hand.  These  equivocal  signs  did  not  escape  the 
Chouan,  who,  drawing  back  a  few  steps,  fixed  his  eyes 
on  the  agitated  face  of  his  companion. 
1  "  You  fill  me  with  regret,"  the  horseman  said,  pres- 
ently ;  "regret  that  I  did  not  get  here  earlier.  I  should 
have  much  liked  to  say  a  few  words  to  these  rascals. 
As  you  may  imagine,  I  should  like  to  have  had  my 
turn  in  fighting  for  the  good  cause." 

"  Ah !  master,  I  fancy  you  will  have  that  pleasure 
where  you  are  going,"  answered  the  peasant,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  That  is  what  I  rely  on,  my  man ;  and  I  hope  we 
shall  meet  again.  Good  night  now,  for  I  must  push 
on,  as  I  do  not  care  to  arrive  too  late  at  Kergant." 

"But  it  will  be  pitch  dark  before  you  can  get  there, 
even  if  you  knew  the  cross-cuts,  which  you  don't.  But 
perhaps  I  can  make  you  understand.  You  must  go 
back  as  far  as  Marie  Brech's  meadow,  and  on  your  left 
you  will  see  a  little  lane  —  go  straight  on  as  far  as  that 
goes." 

"  Thanks,  my  good  man.  And  now  let  me  look  you 
full  in  the  face,  for  I  want  to  recognize  you  when  we 
meet  again." 

"  And  here,"  said  the  Chouan,  breaking  off  a  branch 
from  the  beech  tree,  "  stick  this  in  your  cap,  for  there 
are  more  guns  about  than  you  suspect." 

The    horseman    obeyed    this    prudent    suggestion, 


A    SOLITARY    JOTJftNEY.  143 

thanked  his  dangerous  friend  once  more,  and  rode 
down  the  hill,  on  the  summit  of  which  he  had  held 
that  perilous  interview,  which  had  turned  out  so 
much  better  than  he  at  one  time  had  anticipated.  At 
the  corner  of  the  fence,  where  lay  the  unfortunate 
soldiers,  he  found  a  narrow  path  running  between  two 
deep  ditches,  and  so  suggestive  of  ambuscades  that  he 
would  have  hesitated  if  the  branch  from  the  beech  tree 
had  not  seemed  to  him  a  safeguard  against  surprises  of 
this  kind.  The  rest  of  his  journey  was  marked  by  no 
incidents  of  special  importance.  He  passed  two  or 
three  villages,  ruined  and  deserted ;  and  more  than 
once  heard  among  the  bushes  on  the  roadside,  move- 
ments and  voices  which  occasioned  him  no  little  unea- 
siness ;  twice  he  had  occasion  to  exchange  a  friendly 
word  with  peasants  who  seemed  to  be  devoting  them- 
selves to  agricultural  pursuits  with  an  energy  that  was 
not  accounted  for  by  the  results ;  but  he  met  with  no 
obstacle  to  his  progress ;  nevertheless  twilight  had  given 
place  to  darkness,  when  the  horseman  entered  the 
avenue  of  centenarian  trees  that  led  to  the  Kergant 
manor. 

When  he  reached  the  middle  of  tins  avenue,  he 
dismounted  and  fastened  his  horse  to  a  post  of  a  fence 
near  an  open  meadow.  This  fence  he  clambered  over, 
crossed  the  meadow  diagonally,  and  getting  over  a 
ditch,  whose  weak  places  he  seemed  to  know  perfectly, 
he  found  himself  in  an  immense  garden  extending 
under  the  left  wing  of  the  chateau.     The  lights  from 


150  A    SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

(lie  many  windows  served  to  point  out  the  narrow 
paths,  with  their  borders  of  box.  Here  the  young  man 
stopped  and  seemed  to  hesitate ;  soon,  however,  le 
resumed  his  progress,  carefully  avoiding  the  luminous 
zone,  but  his  step  was  less  rapid  now,  and  his  move- 
ments indicated  a  certain  aimlessness  of  purpose.  His 
eyes  eagerly  pierced  the  darkness  for  familiar  objects  — 
each  tree,  each  garden  seat,  statue  or  vase  of  flowers, 
he  approached  and  even  touched  with  a  lingering 
movement  of  almost  tenderness.  It  was  as  if  every 
corner  was  associated  in  his  memory,  with  some  period 
of  his  life,  to  which  he  looked  back  with  infinite  regret. 
A  gentle  slope  led  him  through  a  little  grove  of 
elms  to  a  part  of  the  garden  that  went  by  the  name  of 
"  the  wood,"  where  nature  had  been  left  pretty  much 
to  herself,  although  certain  vistas  cut  through  the 
black  masses  of  fir  trees,  allowed  the  starry  skies  to  be 
seen.  The  murmur  of  running  water  was  heard, 
coming  from  a  leaping,  brawling  brook  which,  passing 
through  the  wood,  was  lost  in  a  great  marsh  in  the 
distance.  The  young  man  followed  for  some  rods  one 
of  the  winding  paths,  and  was  standing  on  a  rustic 
bridge  thrown  over  the  brook,  when  a  sound  of  voices 
came  to  his  ear;  so  distinct  was  it,  that  those  who 
spoke  must  be,  he  knew,  within  ten  feet.  He  looked 
around,  and  at  last  saw  at  the  end  of  the  path,  a  bench 
under  a  tree,  on  which  sat  a  woman  wrapped  in  an 
ample  cloak,  the  hood  of  which  was  drawn  over  her 
head.  Against  a  tree,  close  at  her  side,  leaned  a  man 
of  slight  figure.     This  man  was  speaking. 


A    SOLITARY    JOURNEY.  1~1 

"It  is  unreasonable  and  ungrateful,"  said  the 
unknown,  in  a  voice  of  caressing  sweetness :  "  you 
know  how  entirely,  and  in  what  way  my  life  is  occu- 
pied. I  have  great  and  formidable  duties.  Were  I  to 
neglect  them,  you  would  be  the  first  to  reproach  me, 
or  you  are  not  the  woman  I  suppose  you  to  be.  And 
how  can  you  expect  me  to  be  other  than  distant  at 
times,  when  I  have  so  much  on  my  mind?  ". 

"Yes,"  interrupted  the  young  woman,  in  a  voice, 
choked  either  through  prudence  or  emotion ;  "  yes,  I 
admit  all  that,  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  deceive  me,  is 
it  ?  You  do  not  know,  you  never  can  know,  what  my 
sufferings  are,  when  this  thought  comes  to  me  — " 

"But  all  this  is  very  foolish,"  answered  the 
unknown;  "foolish  and  groundless!  I  know  you  no 
longer.  Your  intrepid  heart  and  courageous  spirit 
seem  to  be  crushed  under  the  most  puerile  presenti- 
ments." 

"You  would  never  know  me  again,  Fleur-de-Lis, 
were  you  to  deceive  me." 

"  But  I  love  you,  my  proud  child  !  I  love  you  most 
dearly." 

These  words,  and  the  tone  in  which  they  were  pro- 
nounced, seemed  to  have  restored  to  the  young  girl 
some  little  confidence.  She  allowed  her  hand  to  be 
taken  by  the  person  whom  she  had  called  Fleur-de-Lis, 
and  who  now  began  to  talk  to  her  with  impassioned 
eagerness,  but  in  so  low  a  tone  that  only  she  could 
distinguish  his  words.      At  a  noise  from  among   the 


153  A     SOLITARY    JOURNEY. 

trees  she  started  up,  and,  seizing  the  arm  of  her  com« 
panion,  murmured  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  terror,  "  My 
father ! " 

At  the  same  moment  a  new  sound  struck  their  ears, 
for  both  were  now  listening  with  acute  attention ;  it 
was  like  the  snap  of  a  trigger  of  a  gun.  The  lady 
started  back,  covered  her  face  with  both  hands,  and 
held  her  breath. 

After  some  moments  of  anxiety,  Fleur-de-Lis  said : 
u  It  was  nothing,  dear.  Night  and  a  wood  are  always 
full  of  inexplicable  sounds." 

As  he  spoke,  he  led  the  lady  down  the  path,  and  over 
the  little  bridge. 

After  they  had  passed,  the  stranger,  who  had  wit- 
nessed this  mysterious  scene,  stepped  from  behind  the 
colossal  trunk  of  a  fir  tree  that  had  sheltered  him,  and 
murmured,  as  he  thrust  his  pistol  back  into  his  breast : 

"  It  was  not  my  sister !     It  was  she  !     I  must  wait." 


SUPPER    AT     TriiS     CHATEAU.  153 

CHAPTER  X. 

SUPPER    AT    THE    CHATEAU. 

THAT  same  evening  the  dining-room  in  the  Chateau 
de  Kergant,  a  vast  apartment,  wainscotted  with  oak, 
was  occupied  by  some  twenty  guests,  seated  at  a  table 
covered  with  a  sumptuous  supper.  Mademoiselle 
Andree*  Pelven,  with  more  grace  than  dignity,  sat  on 
the  right  of  the  Marquis  de  Kergant,  while  the 
Canoness,  with  more  dignity  than  grace,  occupied  the 
chair  at  her  brother's  left. 

Mademoiselle  Bellah  de  Kergant,  benignant  and 
smiling  like  a  young  Queen,  was  in  the  centre  of  one 
side  of  the  table  opposite  the  Marquis,  watching  with 
sedulous  care  that  the  comfort  of  their  guests  was 
attended  to,  and  occasionally  giving  an  order  sotto  voce 
to  the  lacqueys  in  deep  crimson,  who  were  busy  behind 
her. 

The  lacqueys,  as  well  as  their  crimson  liveries, 
seemed  singularly  out  of  place  amid  this  civil  war;  but 
the  Canoness  Ellinore  was  one  of  those  who  counte- 
nanced no  lapses  in  such  matters.  She  had  often 
reproached  the  unfortunate  Queen  for  her  disregard  of 
etiquette  and  ceremony  which,  as  the  Canoness  insisted, 
had  really  been  the  fundamental  cause  of  the  French 
Revolution;    her  admiration  fur  the  Roman  Senators 


154  SUPPER     AT     THE     CIIATEAU. 

who  awaited  the  enemy,  seated  on  their  ivory  chairs, 
was  immense ;  and  the  crimson  liveries  of  the  lacqueys 
were  obstinately  kept  up  at  her  own  expense.  Mon- 
sieur cle  Kergant,  though  by  no  means  insensible  to  the 
puerility  of  all  this  in  such  times,  allowed  his  sister  to 
do  as  she  pleased,  because  of  a  certain  grandeur  of 
soul,  which  she  had  more  than  once  evinced  in  hours 
of  peril. 

The  supper  was  served  in  the  same  careful  style  as 
of  yore,  the  table  blazed  with  lights  and  glittered  with 
glass  and  silver ;  the  china  upon  it  was  exquisite,  and 
the  viands  were  served  with  a  profusion  characteristic 
then,  as  now,  of  Brittany. 

If  the  Marquis  and  his  sister,  had  hoped  to  forget 
the  present,  and  recall  the  pleasant  entertainments  of 
their  best  years,  their  success  was  small,  for  the  actors 
about  the  table  did  not  second  the  illusion.  More  than 
one  of  them  wore  the  coarse  clothing  of  peasants, 
and  hands  habituated  to  the  plough,  lifted  the  embla- 
zoned silver.  The  Marquis  called,  and  with  reason, 
many  of  his  guests,  heroes,  but  a  feAV  years  before  he 
would  hardly  have  recognized  them  as  men.  Thus  it 
was  that  this  Revolution,  which  the  old  gentleman 
fought  without,  with  such  intense  desperation,  had 
placed  her  foot  on  his  very  hearth-stone  —  he  received 
her  at  his  table,  and  showed  her  every  honor  ! 

The  plebeian  coiffe  of  Alix,  the  daughter  of  Kado, 
the  guide,  was  to  be  seen  at  the  further  end  of  the 
table,  and  added  another  graceful  touch  to  the  con- 


SUITE  ft    AT    TJTE    CltATEAtT.  151 

toasts  of  the  picture.  Monsieu  ■  de  Kergant,  of  a  most 
generous  and  genial  nature,  when  his  prejudices  were 
not  excited,  wished  to  evince  by  this  condescension  the 
gratitude  he  felt  for  the  devotion  this  young  girl  had 
shown  to  her  companions  in  exile.  The  punctilious 
Canoness  could  not  conceal  from  herself  that  this 
mixture  of  costumes  and  of  manners,  was  fatal  to  the 
traditions  of  her  house.  She  fully  realized  the  deterio- 
rating influence  of  these  contradictions  on  her  lacqueys, 
but  she  consoled  herself  by  giving  to  this  mortification 
a  religious  coloring  —  she  compared  these  repasts  to 
those  of  the  early  Christians. 

Some  years  ago  we  chanced  to  meet  a  survivor  of 
these  Chouan  wars,  and  we  learned  from  him  what  was 
likely  to  be  the  subject  of  conversation  at  a  supper 
given  between  two  of  these  combats,  and  we  shall 
endeavor  to  reproduce  it  for  our  readers. 

"  This  is  a  marriage  feast,  my  dear  Marquis ;  a  Royal 
festivity,"  said  a  young  man  who  occupied  the  place  of 
honor  at  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant's  side,  and  whose 
i-very  word  was  received  with  almost  exaggerated 
respect.  "I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  your  chateau 
is  a  refuge  for  all  those  illustrious  cooks  who  have 
been  deprived  of  employment  by  the  Revolution ; 
this  supper  seems  to  me  to  have  been  prepared  by 
them  as  a  token  of  their  gratitude!  Such  a  supper 
deserves  a  poem  in  its  honor,  although  in  my  opinion 
the  shorter  a  poem  is,  the  better  it  is !  Ah !  Made- 
moiselle, you  frown;  I  have  uttered  some  heresy,  it 
seems." 


153         STJPPEft    AT    THE    CHATEAtJ. 

"You  have  hurt  Mademoiselle  Bellah's  feelings,"  said 
a  young  Abbe,  witli  a  refined  and  delicate  face,  who  sat 
near  the  Canoness. 

"My  daughter,  Due,  adores  poetry,"  interposed 
Monsieur  de  Kergant. 

"  But  I  said  nothing  against  poetry,"  answered  be 
who  was  addressed  as  Due.    "I  was  talking  of  poems." 

"But  Monsieur,"  asked  Bellah,  with  a  smile,  "what 
do  you  mean  by  poems  ?  " 

"  I  mean,    Mademoiselle ,  I  mean ,  well,  for 

example,  I  mean  la  Henriade,  which  I  have  never  read, 
to  be  sure,  but  which  I  know  to  be  very  tedious." 

"The  author  is  a  rascal,"  observed  the  Canoness, 
with  superfluous  energy ;  "  I  never  read  his  Henriade 
myself,  but  I  am  told  that  Jeanne  d'Arc  is  badly 
treated  in  it." 

"  Thank  you,  Madame,"  answered  the  young  man, 
"for  giving  me  another  legitimate  cause  of  dislike  to  the 
poem.  As  to  poetry,  I  share  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant's 
taste  for  it ;  but  I  am  very  far  from  admiring  the  many 
lines  of  unequal  length  which  go  by  that  name.  A 
man  is  not  a  poet,  because  he  avoids  calling  things  by 
their  right  names,  and  because  he  measures  his  sylla- 
bles with  more  or  less  facility.  The  dreams  of  a 
child  may  be  poetry ;  a  young  man  who  loves  is  a  poet, 
but  under  pain  of  ridicule  he  must  relinquish,  if  he 
has  passed  his  early  youth,  any  romance  in  his  speech. 
Your  old  Bretonne  ballads,  Mademoiselle,  contain 
treasures  of  pure  poetry." 


SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU.     157 

Monsieur  de  Kergant  was  about  to  speak,  when  he 
saw  his  daughter  rise  to  her  feet,  and  stand  with  fixed 
eyes  and  pallid  cheeks,  gazing  at  a  corner  of  the  room 
where  the  door  which  led  to  the  great  hall,  stood  wide 
open.  Half  of  the  guests  looked  in  the  same  direction 
with  vivid  surprise  and  some  alarm  imprinted  on  their 
faces.  Monsieur  de  Kergant  turned  and  saw  Com- 
mandant Herv6,  in  full  Republican  uniform,  but 
without  a  sword,  standing  in  the  doorway.  The  Mar- 
quis started  up,  and  Andree'  uttered  a  stifled  cry. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Pelven,  whose  gentle,  grave  face 
was  pale  with  emotion  and  fatigue,  "  I  have  come  to 
ask  hospitality  at  your  hands.  For  motives  which  it  is 
easy  for  you  to  divine,  there  is  no  longer  safety  for  me 
among  the  Republicans.  Warned  in  time,  of  the  fate 
that  was  impending,  I  concluded  that  it  was  more 
foolish  than  courageous  to  struggle  against  this.  I  am 
an  outlaw,  and  an  exile.  I  come  therefore,  to  join 
outlaws  and  exiles.  If  I  have  relied  too  much,  sir,  on 
your  former  friendship,  I  will  go  elsewhere  to  drag  out 
a  miserable  existence." 

All  the  guests  had  listened  in  sad  silence  to  the 
words  of  the  young  officer ;  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the 
Marquis,  whose  face  had  lost  the  genial  expression 
aroused  by  the  occasion,  and  resumed  the  character  of 
noble  severity  more  natural  to  it. 

"  Monsieur  de  Pelven,"  he  said,  taking  a  few  steps; 
toward  his  unexpected  guest;  but  instead  of  finishing 
the  phrase  with  the  solemnity  indi  ;ated  by  this  begin- 


158     SUPPEK  AT  THE  CHATEAU 

ning,  he  seized  the  young  man's  hand,  and  drew  him  to 
his  breast. 

"  HerveY'  he  cried,  in  an  agitated  voice,  "  my  son, 
my  child,  you  are  welcome  !  " 

This  reception,  which  was  entirely  unexpected, 
troubled  Herve*  sorely.  The  warm  embrace  of  the  old 
man  chilled  the  youth,  until  every  drop  of  blood  in 
his  veins  was  turned  to  ice.  The  thought  of  the  double 
part  he  was  playing  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  filled 
him  with  remorse,  and  while  he  stammered  forth  a  few 
troubled  words  of  gratitude  and  affection,  his  brown 
skin  grew  flushed,  but  meeting  the  eyes  of  the  person 
who  sat  at  the  right  of  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  he 
instantly  recovered  his  self-possession,  and  his  determi- 
nation was  stronger  than  ever. 

Meanwhile,  the  Marquis  turned  toward  his  guests. 
"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  this  is  the  son  of  Comte  de 
Pelven.  He  has  been  carried  away  by  those  Revolu- 
tionary ideas  which  seduced  so  many  of  our  great 
names  in  the  deceitful  dawn  of  these  sad  days.  I  do 
not  doubt  that  he  has  long  since  recognized  his  mistake 
and  deplored  his  illusions.  Circumstances  which  you 
know,  have  at  last  broken  those  chains  which  an 
exaggerated  sentiment  of  honor  had  forged  for  him. 
I  beg  of  you  to  welcome  him  as  the  son  of  my  old 
age." 

The  guests  replied  by  shouts,  and  the  clink  of  their 
wine  glasses;  one  among  them,  however  —  lie  who 
seemed,  in  spite  of  his  youth --to  bo  first  among 
them  —  contented  himself  with  a  grave  and  polite  bow. 


SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU.    159 

Herve*,  on  the  invitation  of  the  Marquis,  took  his 
place  at  Andrew's  side ;  she,  poor  child,  was  in  such  a 
state  of  excitement  that  she  did  not  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  to  cry.  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  more 
reserved,  or  gifted  with  more  penetration,  had  given 
to  the  companion  of  her  childhood,  no  other  welcome 
than  a  sad  cold  smile,  and  the  eyes  with  which  she, 
from  time  to  time  looked  at  him,  were  full  of  doubt 
and  anxiety. 

An   embarrassed  silence  followed  the  tumult  occa- 
sioned by  the  arrival  of  the  Republican.    Mademoiselle 
de  Kergant's  neighbor,  alone  looked  perfectly  at  ease 
and  undisturbed,  and  did  his  best  to  renew  the  conver- 
sation, which  the  presence  of  this  hated  uniform  seemed 
to  have  frozen  on  the  lips  of  those  who  sat  around  the 
table.     The  peculiar  voice,  sonorous  and  sweet,  struck 
Herve's  ears,  and  the  young  Commandant  felt  abso- 
lutely certain  that  he  had  before  him,  that  mysterious 
chief,  the  enemy  and  the  rival  he  had  come  to  seek  — 
that  Royalist  hero,  who,  in  such  a  brief  space  of  time, 
had  caused  all  Brittany  to  ring  with  his  name.     He 
watched   him  with  sombre    curiosity.     He  was  of  as 
small  a  stature  as  was  consistent  with  masculine  beauty ; 
he  might  be  anywhere  between  twenty-five  and  thirty, 
his  hair  was  dark,  growing  thickly  around  a  broad, 
white  brow,  his  mouth  was  almost  feminine  in  its  del- 
icacy, but   this  charm,  almost  unappreciable  in  a  man, 
was  redeemed  by  the  bold  lines  of  chin  and  nose,   and 
moreover,  by  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  frank,  haughty 
and  fearless,  to  a  degree. 


160  SUPPER     AT     THE     CHATEAU. 

Pel ven  had  expected  to  find  in  the  face  of  the 
unknown,  some  of  the  characteristic  features  of  an 
illustrious  family ;  his  patrician  education  had  given 
him  such  a  thorough  and  minute  information  in 
regard  to  the  personnel  of  the  Bourbon  house,  that  he 
at  once  felt  certain  that  no  one  of  the  names  given  to 
this  young  chief  really  belonged  to  him.  However 
this  might  be,  his  attitude  and  manner  of  speech  was 
of  one  in  authority.  No  one  was  disposed  to  question 
his  right  to  his  princely  ways,  and  he  used  this  right 
with  exquisite  politeness.  He  was  at  once  keen,  quick 
and  affable,  addressing  each  person  in  turn,  and  show- 
ing a  marvellous  appreciation  of  the  peculiarities  of 
each.  He  was  a  man  whom  nature  had  richly  endowed, 
and  who  united  a  certain  fascination  of  grace  and  ease 
to  that  of  strength,  and  who  spoke  with  equal  elo- 
quence to  soldiers  and  to  women.  The  medal  had  its 
reverse  side,  however ;  an  acute  and  delicate  observer 
would  have  been  startled  by  the  brilliancy  of  so  many 
resources  and  qualities,  and  would  have  concluded  that 
there  was  nothing  left  to  discover.  It  seemed  more 
natural  to  accept  this  young  man  as  a  master  than  as  a 
friend. 

Herve*  could  not  refrain  from  starting,  when  he  heard 
himself  addressed  by  this  person,  whom  we  will  desig- 
nate as  Fleur-de-Lis. 

"  Monsieur  de  Pelven,"  he  said,  lifting  his  glass, 
"  will  you  allow  me  to  drink  to  the  happy  accident,  so 
thoroughly  appreciated  by  ourselves,  which  allows  us 
to  claim  you  as  one  of  us  ?  " 


SUPPER    AT    THE     CHATEAU  If 

"Monsieur,"  answered  Herve,  trying  to  smile,  c\inlef 
I  am  greatly  mistaken  thanks  are  du*s  to  yoy  for  tLfo 
rather  than  to  me." 

\  " I  trust,  Monsieur  le  Comte, '"'  said  Fleur-de-Lis,  in 
a  cordial  tone,  "  that  you  have  forgiven  the  liberty  I 
took,  in  disposing  of  your  services  without  your 
knowledge." 

"But,"  answered  Herve\  gaily,  "you  can't  expect 
me  to  forgive  a  certain  blow." 

"  Which  does  not  lie  heavy  on  my  conscience,  thank 
Heaven !  George,  my  friend,  answer  for  your  own  evil 
deeds,  I  beg  of  you  ;  your  heavy  hand  mast  not  separate 
Monsieur  de  Pelven  and  myself.  Here  is  your  enemy, 
my  dear  Comte,"  added  the  young  man,  indicating  to 
Hei've*  a  broad  shouldered  peasant  with  a  round  head, 
whose  loosely  tied  cravat  allowed  a  Hercules-like  throat 
to  be  seen.     "  I  am  sure  you  will  forgive  George." 

"  But,  Monsieur  le  Comte,"  said  George,  with  a  loud 
laugh,  "  it  was  a  question  of  safety  for  us  all,  and  a 
blow  of  the  fist  does  not  disgrace  a  man  after  all." 

"I  did  not  say  that  it  disgraced  me,  my  friend,  I  said 
that  it  hurt  me  !  I  suppose,  Monsieur  George,  that  you 
were  one  of  the  dames  who  were  washing  their  linen 
that  night  in  the  valley  de  la  Groac'h.  May  I,  without 
indiscretion,  venture  to  ask  the  motive  of  that  strange 
masquerade  ?  " 

"Ah!  don't  speak  of  it,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis ;  "these 
Bretons  are  so  brave  that  they  are  foolhardy.     The^ 
11 


162    SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU. 

wished  to  welcome  me  by  this  jest,  but  they  gave  us 
the  greatest  trouble  in  the  world." 

"  But,  how  was  it,"  asked  Herv^,  "  that  you  escaped 
with  impunity  from  our  fire  ?  " 

"Ah,"  said  George  in  reply,  "you  must  admit  that 
my  boys  had  considerable  courage.  I  have  always 
told  them  to  throw  themselves  flat  on  the  ground  to 
let  the  balls  pass  over  their  heads  ;  you  may  remember 
with  what  precision  they  executed  this  manoeuvre." 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  rose  from  the  table  as  these 
words  were  spoken ;  she  took  the  hand  offered  by  Fleur- 
de-Lis,  and,  followed  by  all  the  guests,  entered  a  neigh- 
boring salon,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with  family 
portraits.  Herve,  seeing  once  more  those  well-known 
faces,  witnesses  of  his  childish  sports,  and  protectors  of 
his  peaceful  years,  felt  a  new  pang  added  to  the  griefs' 
and  agitations  of  the  present  hour.  While  the  various 
guests,  scattered  about  the  salon,  or  collected  in  little 
groups,  indulged  in  those  expansive  conversations 
which  are  apt  to  follow  a  good  meal,  he  withdrew  to 
one  of  the  embrasures  of  a  deep  window.  Presently, 
Bellah  approached,  talking,  as  she  came,  with  several 
persons,  then,  leaving  them  with  an  appearance  of 
carelessness,  she  drew  near  the  window. 

"Herve*,"  she  said,  quickly,  "what  are  you  doing 
here?"  her  vcice  was  almost  inaudible. 

"  God  knows,"  answered  the  young  man,  "  that  the 
most  ignominious  death  would  have  been  preferable,  in 
my  eyes,  had  I  had  the  least  suspicion  of  what  I  was 
fco  see  —  of  what  I  was  to  hear  I " 


SUPPER    AT     THE     CHATEAU.  163 

"  Is  this  an  enigma  ? "  returned  Bellah,  with  that 
same  hauteur  which  was  one  of  her  great  charms. 

"  An  hour  ago,  Bellah,  I  was  in  the  pine  grove." 

"  In  the  pine  grove?"  repeated  Bellah,  meeting 
Hervd's  reproachful  gaze  with  frank  and  limpid  eyes. 
Her  father's  voice  calling  her,  cut  short  this  explana- 
tion ;  the  girl  lightly  shrugged  her  shoulders,  lifted  her 
lovely  eyes  to  heaven,  and  slowly  and  pensively  moved 
away. 

When  we  are  astonished  at  the  facility  with  which  a 
clever  man  allows  himself  to  be  deceived  by  the  woman 
whom  he  loves,  we  forget  the  natural  inclination  of  our 
hearts,  which  is  to  hope.  It  is  our  own  weak  hands 
which  present  to  a  woman  the  vail  with  which  she 
blinds  us.  A  single  word,  a  gesture  of  surprise,  was 
quite  enough,  to  induce  Herv6*  to  forget  the  proofs 
which  five  minutes  before,  he  had  looked  upon  as  irre- 
futable. He  remembered  the  pride  and  the  innocence 
of  his  adopted  sister,  he  read  in  her  frank  eyes,  the 
purity  and  honesty  of  her  soul,  and  forgot  that  the 
perfection  of  hypocrisy,  was  to  adorn  a  treacherous 
brow  with  this  deceptive  auriole,  and  he  already  began 
to  reproach  himself  for  having  insulted,  with  his  vague 
suspicions,  a  creature  so  worthy  of  respect. 

Yet  this  scene  in  the  fir  grove  had  positively  taken 
place ;  of  this  there  was  no  question.  This  idea  plunged 
Herve  into  new  anxieties,  and  at  this  moment  a 
woman's  dress  swept  against  the  curtain  behind  which 
he  was  half  concealed,  he  lifted  his  head  and  recog 


164    SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU. 

nized  the  pale,  energetic  face  of  Alix.  Unreasonable 
as  might  be  the  thought  that  now  occurred  to  the 
young  man,  he  grasped  at  it  with  eagerness,  but  agtiiii 
looking  toward  an  animated  group  around  Bellah  and 
Fleur-de-Lis,  Herve'  was  convinced  that  the  young 
Royalist  hero,  if  he  had  not  the  claims  to  his  hatred 
with  which  he  had  endowed  him,  had  not  himself  to 
blame,  for  it  was  easy  to  see  that  Bellah's  presence 
excited  him,  and  that  he  did  his  utmost  to  please  her. 
It  was  to  her  that  his  eyes  dedicated  his  every  word, 
to  her  he  displayed  all  his  wealth,  environed  her  by  all 
his  prestige,  as  by  a  magic  circle.  Bellah  was  evidently 
under  the  charm,  although  it  was  not  possible  to  judge 
of  the  depth  of  the  impression  upon  her.  Hervd  read 
in  the  eyes  of  the  young  girl,  a  certain  passionate 
admiration  which  revived  all  his  doubts  and  all  his 
anger. 

Recalling,  with  a  start,  the  aim  of  his  journey  to 
Kergant,  he  accused  himself  of  wearing  his  mask 
longer  than  was  necessary.  He  went  toward  the  group 
of  which  his  rival  was  the  centre,  and  taking  advan- 
tage of  a  momentary  silence,  he  said  calmly : 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  kindly  listen  to  me  for  a  few 
moments,  before  you  regard  me  as  fully  committed  to 
a  cause  which  you  represent  so  well  ?  I  am  not,  to  be 
sure,  in  a  position  which  would  enable  me  to  put  a 
price  on  my  services,  bnt  my  character  should  be 
clearly  defined,  both  for  your  satisfaction  and  my  own. 
I  believe,  Monsieur,  that  I  do  not  err  in  attributing  to 


SUITER    AT    THE    CHATEAU.  l^K 

jrou  all  the  authority  that  is  required  to  give  judgment 
without  appeal,  in  all  matters  that  concern  me." 

The  young  Royalist's  piercing  eyes  had  been  fixed 
on  Herve^s  face  while  the  young  man  spoke;  a  singular 
smile  appeared  on  his  lips  as  he  replied. 

"  I  am  at  your  orders,  Monsieur  de  Pelven,  and  you 
have  but  anticipated  my  own  wishes.  The  evening  is 
clear,  I  believe,  would  you  like  to  walk  in  the  garden  for 
a  half  hour  ?     We  could  talk  there  at  our  ease." 

Herve*  bowed  an  assent. 

"But,  my  dear  host,"  resumed  Fleur-de-Lis,  addres- 
sing the  Marquis  de  Kergant,  4<  are  we  to  treat 
Monsieur  Pelven  as  a  prisoner?  I  notice  that  he  wears 
no  sword,  which  to  a  brave  soldier  like  himself  must 
be  a  source  of  great  mortification.  Pray  do  not  allow 
this  to  continue." 

"You  remind  me,  Monsieur  le  Due,"  answered  the 
Marquis,  "  that  the  time  has  come  for  me  to  restore  to 
Flervd  a  portion  of  his  heritage,  which  I  have  hitherto 
withheld." 

As  he  spoke  the  Marquis  went  to  a  table  and  took 
from  a  velvet  case  a  sword,  which  he  presented  to 
Herve". 

"  My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "  this  is  yours,  the  sword 
of  your  father  should  be  entrusted  only  to  a  loyal 
hand.  I  give  it  to  you  with  a  feeling  of  confidence, 
knowing  that  it  will  never  be  used  against  our  Holy 
Cross,  nor  against  our  sacred  Fleur-de-Lis." 

At  these  words,  the  young  Due  smiled  again. 


166  SUPPER    AT    THE     CIIATEAU. 

"I  will  be  Monsieur  de  Pelven's  guaranty,"  he  said, 
"  that  this  confidence  is  well  placed — and  that  it  is  very 
apropos,"  he  added  in  a  lower  voice,  turning  on  his 
heel  and  going  toward  the  door.  Pelven  buckled  on 
the  sword,  thanking  the  Marquis  with  the  cold  reserve 
that  had  characterized  his  conduct  toward  that  gentle- 
man ever  since  his  arrival,  and  which  Monsieur  de 
Kergant  explained  as  the  natural  result  of  this  com- 
pulsory return. 

The  two  young  men  crossed  a  square  hall  hung 
around  with  old  armor,  and  traversing  a  bridge  thrown 
over  the  moat,  they  found  themselves  in  the  garden  of 
the  chateau.  By  a  tacit  agreement  they  continued  to 
walk  on  rapidly,  as  if  they  had  not  yet  reached  a  place 
solitary  enough  for  the  explanation  coveted  by  both. 
As  they  approached  the  fir  grove,  they  heard  quick 
steps  behind  them.  They  stopped,  and  in  a  moment 
more  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  joined  them. 

"Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  breathlessly. 
"  Monsieur  Herv6*,  I  must  speak  to  you." 

Herve*  could  not  restrain  a  gesture  of  violent  annoy- 
ance. "Mademoiselle,"  he  replied,  "you  must  excuse 
me.  You  heard  the  request  I  made  to  Monsieur — to 
Monsieur  le  Due.  He  kindly  granted  it,  and  he  would 
have  a  right  to  accuse  me  of  gr^at  discourtesy  were  1 
now  to  postpone " 

"Monsieur  le  Due,"  interrupted  Bellah,  quickly, 
"is  too  courteous  himself,  not  to  yield  to  my  wishes." 

"Most  assuredly,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis,  in  a  tone  of 


SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU.     167 

constraint  most  unusual  to  him.  "  Mademoiselle  de 
Kergant  may  always  rely  on  the  most  absolute  submis- 
sion from  me,  but  Monsieur  de  Pelven  is  unjust  toward 
me,  if  he  supposes  himself  to  be  the  only  person  dis- 
turbed by  this  delay." 

Bowing  profoundly,  as  he  concluded  this  sentence, 
the  young  chief  turned  down  the  next  path,  and  left 
Bellah  alone  with  Herve*. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  walked  still  further  away 
as  if  to  avoid  all  possibility  of  being  heard  by  any  one 
but  him  to  whom  she  spoke. 

"Herve,"  she  said,  abruptly,  standing  still  and  laying 
her  hand  on  his  arm,  "  this  must  not  be." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Herve*,  "I  do  not 
think  you  understand  this  matter." 

"  Better,  perhaps,  than  you  think,  and  it  must  not 
be,  not  if  I  am  obliged  to  go  to  my  father  and  tell  him 
all.     Herve\  do  not  force  me  to  this  horrible  step." 

11  This  horrible  step,  as  you  term  it,  is  most  useless, 
since  one  word  from  your  lips  will  take  from  me  all 
desire  and  all  reasonable  pretext  for  pushing  this  affair 
further.  If  you  refuse  to  utter  this  word,  you  will 
consign  me  to  death  with  your  own  hands,  for  you 
know  your  father.  Bellah,  I  saw  a  woman,  two  hours 
ago,  in  the  arms  of  that  man speak  !  " 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  tottered;  she  caught  at  the 
pedestal  of  a  statue,  near  which  they  stood,  she  gasped 
for  breath,  and  without  lifting  her  eyes,  said  slowly: 

^  That  woman  was  myself," 


168     SUPPER  AT  THE  CHATEAU. 

" You!  good  Heavens!"  crisd  Herve*,  recoiling  in 
absolute  terror.  "Then,"  he  added,  after  a  brief 
silence  — "for  I  choose  to  have  the  avowal  from  your 
own  lips — then  this  man  is  your  lover?" 

Bellah,  whose  attitude  expressed  shame  and  mortifi- 
cation, hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  her  voice  faint 
and  low,  murmured: 

"  Yes,  he  is  my  lover." 

"  Then  farewell,"  said  Herve\ 

"  Where  are  you  going,"  cried  Mademoiselle  de  Ker- 
gant,  wildly  seizing  Herv£'s  hand,  "  what  will  become 
of  you  ?  what  shall  I  say  to  my  father  ?  " 

"  Say  to  him  that  I  came  here  as  a  spy,  call  me  what- 
ever name  you  please,  it  matters  little  to  me.     Adieu." 

Herve"  gently  shook  off  the  hand  which  sought  to 
detain  him,  and  went  away  with  a  rapid  step,  while  the 
young  girl  sank  on  her  knees  before  the  pedestal,  her 
hair  streaming  over  her  shoulders,  and  her  breast  heav- 
ing with  sobs,  the  image  of  a  supplicant  at  the  foot  of 
an  antique  altar. 


A     DEED     OF    DARING.  160 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A     DEED     OF    DARING. 

PELVEN  leaped  the  hedge  that  separated  the  garden 
from  the  meadow,  and  returned  to  the  dark  avenue 
where  his  horse  still  stood.  The  poor  animal,  forgotten 
amid  all  these  anxieties,  uttered  a  faint  neigh  as  he 
recognized  his  master,  and  stretched  out  his  weary 
head  as  if  eager  for  a  caress.  Every  man  who  has 
known  one  of  those  never-to-be-forgotten  hours  of  life, 
marked  by  treachery  and  ingratitude,  will  understand 
how  deepty  any  evidence  of  attachment  from  the 
humblest  creature  goes  to  the  heart.  Herv^  murmured 
some  confused  words,  and  smoothed  the  mane  of  his 
faithful  companion,  then  throwing  himself  on  the  turf, 
dashed  the  tears  from  his  eyes. 

After  some  minutes  given  to  bitter  meditation,  the 
young  man  stood  erect  as  if  to  face  Destiny.  There  is 
a  certain  satisfaction  in  knowing  the  worst,  for  at  least 
those  painful  alternations  of  hope  and  despair,  so  wear- 
ing to  the  soul,  are  then  over.  But  wherever  Herv^ 
looked  he  saw  only  grief,  such  as  it  seemed  almost 
impossible  for  him  to  endure.  Both  Past  and  Future 
seemed  to  have  crumbled  under  his  feet  —  his  dreams 
of  noble  activity,  of  services  rendered,  of  glory  won  — 
all  those  consolations,  in  fact,  to  which  a  man  turns  in 


170  A     DEED     OF    DATING. 

order  to  forget  a  useless  weakness,  were  all  denied  him. 
Contrary  to  all  expectation,  his  mad  enterprise  had 
saved  neither  his  love  nor  his  honor,  but  had  left  him 
his  life.  Alone  in  this  inimical  country,  what  hope 
had  he,  that  he  could  by  any  gallant  act  reawaken  the 
iesteem  of  his  family  and  friends.  What  was  left  for 
him  now  to  do?  He  was  equally  suspected  by  both 
parties,  and  was  regarded  as  a  traitor  by  all.  Under 
what  tent  or  in  what  hut,  should  he,  a  refugee  from 
both  camps,  seek  shelter  for  a  night  ? 

Wrapped  in  these  futile  reflections,  the  young  man 
wandered  to  the  end  of  the  avenue,  when  he  suddenly 
heard  the  measured  step  of  soldiers.  Before  he  had 
time  to  take  flight,  he  was  surrounded  by  bristling 
bayonets  and  felt  the  point  of  a  sabre  at  his  throat. 

"  Surrender !  Whoever  you  are,  surrender !  "  said  a 
quick,  imperative  voice. 

"  Francis !  "  cried  Pelven. 

"  Herve ! "  ejaculated  the  Lieutenant,  dropping  his 
sabre  and  seizing  his  friend's  hand ;  "  Hervd  !  God  be 
praised  !     I  never  hoped  to  see  you  alive  again." 

"  Francis  !  "  repeated  Herve*,  unable  to  recover  from 
his  surprise,  "  what  does  this  mean  ?  Whence  come 
you  ?     Who  is  with  you  ?     Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

14  We  are  all  here,"  said  a  hoarse  voice,  "  Colibri  and 
I.  We  have  all  come  in  search  of  our  Commandant, 
or  of  Death !  " 

"  Ah !  my  good  old  Bruidoux  !  "  cried  Herve*,  "  you 
did  not  believe,  then,  that  I  had  betrayed  you,  ?  " 


A    DEED     OF    DARING.  1?1 

"Didn't  we  all  swallow  .hat  adder  of  a  Scotch- 
woman, Commandant?  All  but  Colibri,  who  was 
most  astonishing  for  his  years." 

"But,  in  Heaven's  name,  Francis,"  interrupted 
Hervd,  "  how  did  you  contrive  to  follow  me  so 
pi  omptly,  and  get  here,  all  of  you,  alive  ?  Where  is 
the  army  ?     Where  is  the  General  ?  " 

"  Further  off  than  I  like,  Commandant.  But,  tell 
me,  did  you  get  into  the  chateau ! " 

"  Yes,  I  got  in,  and  found  all  those  there  of  whom  I 
was  in  search.  But  in  all  other  respects  I  failed, 
utterly  and  entirely.  Do  not  say  any  more  on  this 
subject,  but  tell  me,  I  beg  of  you,  all  that  has  hap- 
pened since  we  parted,  for  I  do  not  yet  know  whether 
I  am  to  rejoice  or  to  grieve  over  this  rencontre." 

Francis,  after  leading  the  Commandant  a  little  aside, 
told  him  that  the  very  night  of  his  departure  the 
Republican  army  had  broken  camp  —  the  principal 
corps  was  already  at  Ploermel ;  three  battalions,  among 
which  was  that  to  which  Herve  belonged,  had  even 
pushed  their  reconnoisance  as  far  as  the  deserted 
village,  through  which  Pelven  had  passed  that  morn- 
ing. The  story  went  that  the  forces  of  the  Whites 
were  concentrating  a  little  further  toward  the  North, 
at  Pontivy.  The  General,  anxious  in  regard  to 
Hervd's  safety,  advised  Francis,  who  was  as  anxious  as 
himself,  to  do  all  that  lay  in  his  power,  short  of  positive 
imprudence.  Francis,  therefore,  seeing  himself  only 
three  short  leagues  from  Kergant,  resolved  to  go  there 


lM  A    DEED    OP    DAKING. 

during  the  night,  accompanied  by  some  sixty  meti, 
among  whom  he  included,  at  their  earnest  solicitation, 
all  those  who  had  acted  as  escort  to  the  emigre's.  This 
,  small  body  of  men,  marching  through  this  deserted 
country,  had  met  with  no  obstacle  whatever.  Francis 
questioned  the  young  Commandant  closely,  and  asked 
if  the  garrison  at  the  chateau  was  large. 

Herve*  answered  that  there  was  no  indication  of  a 
garrison,  either  at  the  chateau  or  in  the  vicinity,  and 
that  no  one  appeared  to  expect  the  approach  of  the 
Republican  army,  for  at  least  fifteen  of  the  Royalist 
officers  had  supped  at  the  chateau  with  the  greatest 
gayety  and  tranquillity.  He  added  some  details  in 
regard  to  Fleur-de-Lis,  and  said  that  in  his  opinion  the 
real  name  of  this  person  did  not  justify  the  apprehen- 
sions of  the  Commander-in-Chief.  "  And  what  do  you 
propose  to  do  now?"  was  the  question  with  which 
Herve*  concluded. 

"  I  was  thinking,  Commandant,  if  it  were  not  possible 
for  us  to  lay  our  hands  on  this  nest  of  rebels  —  the 
capture  of  this  Fleur-de-Lis,  would  be  a  great  feather 
in  our  caps." 

"  But  it  is  impossible !  "  said  Herve*,  eagerly. 

"  Impossible  !  And  why  ?  Nothing  would  be  more 
simple  with  all  you  have  discovered,  and  I  am  mis- 
taken if  we  are  not  neglecting  our  duty,  if  we  fail  to 
avail  ourselves  of  this  opportunity." 

"And  do  you  pretend,  sir,  to  teach  me  my  duty?" 
cried  Pel  veil. 


A     DEED     OF     DARING.  J  7& 

"Monsieur  Herve* !  "  said  the  young  Lieutenant,  in 
tone  Of  painful  surprise. 

"Ah!  I  am  in  the  wrong — outrageously  in  the 
wrong — I  admit  it !  "  answered  Herve\  whose  agitation 
was  excessive.  "  Our  duty  is,  in  fact,  incontestablt 
but  you  cannot  surely  expect  me  to  lift  my  hand 
against  whom  ?  My  father's  friend  —  the  protector  of 
my  infancy  ?  Am  I  to  eject  this  old  man  from  his  own 
house,  the  house  in  which  I  was  treated  so  long  as  a 
son  ?  It  is  impossible,  Francis.  And  these  women  — 
am  I  to  arrest  them,  too?  And  this  young  man  him- 
self—  whomsoever  he  may  be  —  is  it  for  me  to  take 
him  prisoner  ?  No  ;  it  would  be  an  odious  part  for  me 
to  play,  and  I  cannot  do  it.  I  repeat  that  it  is  impos- 
sible, and  I  will  neither  do  it  myself  nor  suffer  you  to 
do  it  —  no,  not  if  I  lose  my  head  in  consequence  !  " 

"  I  hope,  Commandant,  that  you  will  think  better  of 
this,  and  will  regard  it  with  less  repugnance.  The 
General  anticipated  this  reluctance  on  your  part,  should 
we  meet  you  at  Kergant.  He  instructed  me  to  arrest 
none  of  the  women,  and  as  for  Monsieur  de  Kergant, 
as  his  name  is  not  yet  openly  compromised  in  the 
hostile  acts  which  have  broken  the  treaty,  the  General 
says  that  he  will  have  permission  to  go  to  England. 
You  see,  therefore,  if  we  use  this  advantage,  thrown 
by  fortune  in  our  way,  that,  instead  of  doing  Monsieur 
de  Kergant  any  harm,  we  shall  in  reality  prevent  him 
from  consummating  his  own  ruin,  for  this  desperate 
war  will,  sooner  or  later,  surely  swallow  him  and  all 
who  belong  to  him." 


174  A    DEED     OF     DARING. 

Herve*  bowed  assent. 

"And  as  to  Fleur-de-Lis,"  continued  Herve\  "you 
say  he  is  not  a  Bourbon  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  lie  is  not." 

"In  that  case,  he,  whomsoever  he  may  really  be, 
is  to  be  treated  like  all  the  other  prisoners  whom  the 
General  agrees  to  receive,  as  if  they  had  voluntarily 
surrendered  themselves.  He  will  simply  hold  them 
prisoners  until  the  end  of  the  war." 

"  I  ought,  Francis,  to  wish  you  every  success  in  your 
enterprise,"  said  Herve\  "  which,  if  all  be  as  you  say 
and  believe,  is  manifestly  to  the  interest  of  those  who 
are  dear  to  me.  Go,  then,  and  do  your  duty,  but,  situ- 
ated as  I  am,  I  have  no  right  to  take  command  of  your 
men,  even  if  I  wished  to  do  so.  Do  your  duty,  I  say, 
but  whether  it  be  mine  or  not,  I  shall  not  follow  you." 

Francis,  although  evidently  annoyed  at  this  resolu- 
tion, made  no  further  objections,  and,  without  another 
word,  turned  to  issue  a  command  to  his  men. 

All  at  once  Herve*  changed  his  mind;  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  him,  that  in  abstaining  from  playing  any 
part  in  the  impending  drama,  he  was  in  reality  obeying 
a  sentiment  of  weakness  rather  than  a  sense  of  honor. 
His  age  and  his  rank  would  inspire  a  confidence  that 
would  be  refused  to  the  young  Lieutenant  —  perhaps 
his  presence  might  prevent  bloodshed,  and  scenes 
which  should  desolate  that  almost  paternal  dwelling 
that  roof  under  which  his  sister  had  found  an  asylum. 
Hastily  saying  this  to  Francis,  Herve"  added  that  he 


A    DEED     OF    DARING.  175 

would  go  with  him,  but  that  he  should  not  himself 
take  command  of  the  expedition,  nor  give  the  smallest 
hint  or  suggestion  as  to  the  mode  of  procedure. 

The  little  band  then  began  their  march.  The  young 
Lieutenant,  thanks  to  the  friendly  confidences  made  in 
the  past  by  the  young  Commandant,  had  a  very  clear 
idea  of  the  arrangement  of  Kergant;  he  ordered 
Bruidoux,  therefore,  to  cross  the  meadow  with  twenty 
men,  and  to  scale  the  garden  wall.  The  old  chateau, 
surrounded  by  water,  had  no  communication  with  the 
outer  world,  except  by  the  two  bridges  over  the 
moat  —  one  into  the  garden,  and  the  other  into  the 
courtyard.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  these  bridges  were 
held,  the  Marquis  and  his  guests  were  prisoners,  to 
all  intents  and  purposes.  During  this  time,  Pelven 
relieved  his  horse  of  saddle  and  bridle,  and  set  him 
at  liberty  in  the  meadow. 

The  Republican  column  of  some  fifty  men  continued 
to  advance  cautiously  in  the  direction  of  the  chateau. 
There  was  hardly  a  sound,  not  a  footfall  was  heard  on 
the  soft  turf.  Occasionally  the  name  of  Fleur-de-Lis 
was  heard,  whispered  from  one  to  another  of  the  men, 
but  the  two  young  officers  exchanged  not  one  single 
word-*- both  were  agitated  and  both  were  silent.  A 
soldier  requires  a  certain  amount  of  danger  in  his 
duties  in  order  to  make  them  interesting.  Herve\ 
above  all,  realized  that  his  heart  was  still  capable  of 
feel'ug  new  pangs,  that  his  capacity  for  suffering  was 
not  yet  exhausted.     Never  had  the  horror  of  civil  war, 


176  Jl   deed    of   daring. 

and  the  sad  combinations  which  it  entails,  struck  him 
in  so  dreary  a  light ;  in  vain  did  he  call  his  reason  to 
his  assistance ;  in  vain  did  he  summon  to  the  support 
of  his  failing  resolutions  his  conscience  and  his  loyalty, 
both  hitherto  irreproachable.  When  he  perceived  the 
towers  of  the  old  manor,  when  he  had  crossed  the 
bridge  and  stood  within  the  court-yard,  he  could  not 
restrain  a  heavy  sigh,  and  seizing  the  arm  of  his  friend 
with  a  convulsive  gesture  — 

"  Francis,"  he  said,  in  a  hoarse  voice,  "  this  is  a 
frightful  moment ! " 

The  young  Lieutenant  pressed  the  hand  of  his 
friend  in  mute  sympathy,  and  bade  his  men  quicken 
their  pace. 

Such  was  the  security  in  which  the  inhabitants  of 
the  chateau  were  wrapped,  that  the  Republican  detach- 
ment had  not  only  crossed  the  bridge,  without  being 
perceived,  but  had  entered  the  court-yard  through  the 
open  gate.  The  door  of  the  chateau  was  also  open ; 
some  ten  or  twelve  steps  led  to  the  hall,  and  Francis, 
leaving  half  of  his  men  in  the  court-yard,  hurried  up 
these  steps,  accompanied  by  Pelven,  and  followed  by 
the  rest  of  the  soldiers.  Two  or  three  servants,  who 
were  in  the  hall,  were  so  thunderstruck  at  this  sudden 
invasion  that  they  never  d-eamed  of  resistance.  Fran- 
cis, assuring  himself  that  Bruidoux  occupied  the  post 
that  had  been  assigned  to  him,  bade  him  use  no  vio- 
lence, but  to  allow  no  person  to  leave  the  chateau ;  he 
then  with  several  soldiers,  proceeded  to  enter  those 


A    DEED     OP    DAPJKG.  177 

salons,  the  lighted  windows  of  win  ;h  he  had  seen  from 
the  garden. 

The  young  Lieutenant,  through  scruples  which  it  is 
needless  to  explain  to  our  readers,  took  all  these  steps 
without  addressing  a  word  to  Herve^  who  kept  close  to 
his  side,  like  a  shadow.  In  the  room  where  the  supper- 
table  had  been  laid,  they  met  Kado,  who,  seeing  them 
and  their  bayonets,  stood  as  if  petrified,  with  wide-open 
eyes  and  lips. 

"Kado,"  said  Herve*,  at  last  breaking  the  mournful 
silence  which  he  had  enjoined  upon  himself,  "let  there 
be  no  noise,  no  useless  resistance ;  we  are  masters  of 
the  chateau." 

"Good  Lord!"  murmured  Kado,  "can  this  be  you, 
Monsieur  Herve*  ?     You !     You,  who  — " 

"  Silence  !  Act  with  me  now,  and  we  will  direct  our 
best  energies  toward  preventing  great  disasters.  There 
must  not  be  any  bloodshed.  Who  is  within?"  and 
Herve*  pointed  to  the  closed  door  of  a  salon  opposite. 

"  All  the  ladies,  sir,  the  poor  ladies,  and  Monsieur  le 
Marquis,  too." 

"And  the  others?" 

"  All  are  gone,  except  Monsieur  George  and  —  but, 
good  Lord,  Monsieur  Herve*,  it  can't  be  possible  that 
you  — " 

"And  Fleur-de-Lis?"  said  Herve*. 

Kado  wrung  his  hands  in  despair. 

"If  the   Lieutenant  agrees,"  added  Herve*,  "you, 
12 


1?8  A     DEED     OF     DARING. 

Kado   Kftd  best  precede  us,  and  give  the  ladies  soma 
little  warning." 

"  Go  on,  Kado !  "  said  Francis. 

Kado  seemed  to  hesitate ;  then,  on  a  sign  from 
Herve",  he  opened  the  door  of  the  salon.  He  stood 
still  just  within  the  room,  and,  looking  around  upon 
the  terrified  women,  he  seemed  to  struggle  for  words ; 
at  last,  in  the  voice  of  a  judge  pronouncing  sentence  of 
death,  he  said : 

"The  Blues  are  here!" 

A  cry  of  terror  rang  through  the  room — a  cry  that 
entered  the  very  soul  of  Herve,  for  he  recognized  his 
sister's  voice.  The  other  women  showed  their  fright, 
only  by  the  pallor  that  overspread  their  faces. 

Fleur-de-Lis  and  George,  who  were  indeed  the  only 
guests  present,  thrust  their  hands  hastily  into  their 
breasts.  Monsieur  de  Kergant  snatched  his  sword  that 
stood  in  a  corner,  and  rushed  forward;  but  the  door- 
way was  already  packed  with  soldiers,  and  the  two 
Republican  officers  were  within  the  salon,  their  swords 
in  one  hand,  their  hats  in  the  other. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Francis,  "the  chateau  is  sur- 
rounded.    You  are  my  prisoners  !  " 

A  moment  of  profound  silence  followed  this  declara- 
tion. Andree*,  on  seeing  her  brother,  extended  her 
arms — her  slender  form  wavered,  her  delicate  head 
drooped  like  a  broken  lily,  and  she  fell  fonvard. 
He.ve*  ran  to  lift  her  from  the  floor,  but  Bellah  quickly 
prevented  him.    With  the  assistance  of  Alix,  she  placed 


A    DEED     OF    DARING.  179 

the  inanimate  form  of  her  adopted  sister  on  a  sofa,  and 
then  hastily  opened  a  window  close  at  hand. 
Pel ven  turned  toward  the  Marquis. 
44  Monsieur,"  he  said,  "  this  misfortune  is  in  no  way 
due  to  me.     I  could  neither  foresee  nor  prevent  it.     I 
'  trust  that  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe  this  in 
spite  of  my  presence  here.     I  must  also  tell  you  that  I 
am  totally  without  influence — that  my  entreaties  even 
are  valueless.     I  beg  of  you,  therefore,  not  to  aggra- 
vate  by   useless   resistance   the  present  condition    of 
things.     Rely  on  the  word  of  this  young  officer,  who  is 
in  the  confidence  of  the  General-in-Chief." 

44  And  who  will  assure  me  of  your  word  ?  Who  will 
authenticate  what  you  say  ?  "  asked  the  Marquis. 

44  Speak,  Francis,"  answered  Hervd,  44and  respect 
those  who  can  reply  to  an  insult,  only  with  words." 

Pelven  then  withdrew  to  a  distant  corner  of  the. 
room,  and,  leaning  against  the  wall,  stood  dumb  and 
motionless,  as  if  resolved  to  take  no  further  part  in  the 
scene  enacted  before  him. 

44  Gentlemen,"  said  Francis,  in  his  turn,  after  motion- 
ng  the  soldiers  to  leave  the  room,  44 1  should  have 
hesitated  to  undertake  this  mission,  if  the  generosity  of 
the  Commander-in-Chief,  had  not  lightened  the  burden 
in  some  degree.  These  are  the  conditions  which  I  am 
permitted  to  propose." 

The  young  Lieutenant  then  proceeded  to  inform  the 
Royalist  chiefs,  who  listened  without  any  indications 
of  surprise,  of  the  manner  in  which  lloehe  proposed 
to  treat  his  prisoners. 


±80  x    DEED     OF    DARING. 

"  Nevertheless,  gentlemen,"  continued  Francis,  "l 
ought  to  make  you  fully  understand  that  our  General 
has  no  authority  to  dispose  at  his  will,  of  any  member 
of  the  fallen  Royal  family.  If  this  declaration  con- 
cerns any  here  present,  you  alone  need  know  it." 

When  Francis  ceased  speaking,  the  Marquis  drew 
his  two  guests  aside,  and  began  with  them  a  whispered 
conference,  which,  however  was  of  short  duration.  It 
was  Fleur-de-Lis  who  finally  answered  the  Republican 
officer. 

"  No  magnanimous  act  on  the  part  of  your  General, 
sir,"  he  said,  "  would  astonish  me.  His  promises  are 
facts  which  we  accept  as  such.  Unfortunately  we 
know  also,  that  above  him  is  another  power  which 
forces  him  to  open  his  hands,  and  let  loose  his  captives, 
sometimes  even,  when  his  word  has  been  given.  Now, 
this  is  a  chance  which  these  gentlemen  and  I,  refuse  to 
accept.     Here,  Kado  !  " 

The  guard,  obeying  this  summons,  placed  himself  at 
the  side  of  his  master. 

"  Am  I  to  understand,  sir,"  said  Francis,  "  that  you 
indulge  in  the  mad  idea " 

"That  we  can  defend  ourselves?  Yes,  sir!  The 
contest  is  most  unequal  —  that  fact  we  are  ready  to 
concede,  but  we  intend  to  try." 

As  he  spoke  Fleur-de-Lis  put  his  unsheathed  sword 
under  his  left  arm,  and  drew  a  pistol  from  his  breast. 
His  three  companions — the  Marquis  de  Kergant,  the 
man  who  was  known  as  George,  and  Kado,  the  guard, 
all  did  the  same. 


A    DEED    OF    DAKINQ.  181 

At    these     threatening    movements,    Mademoiselle 

de  Kergant  and  Alix,  the  daughter  of  the  guard,  fell 
on  their  knees  by  the  side  of  the  sofa  where  Andree* 
lay  still  unconscious. 

Francis  recoiled  and  hastily  drew  a  pistol  from  his 
breast ;  his  brow  contracted  and  he  glanced  at  Herve*, 
who  had  not  moved  from  his  position,  but  stood  with 
his  arms  crossed  over  his  breast,  calm,  and  to  all 
appearance,  utterly  indifferent. 

Meanwhile  the  soldiers  in  the- next  room,  hearing 
something  of  what  was  going  on,  again  filled  up  the 
doorway. 

"  Move  a  little,  mon  Lieutenant,"  cried  one  of  the 
soldiers.     "  You  prevent  us  from  firing." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Francis,  in  a  changed  voice,  "  I 
beg  of  you,  if  you  have  any  sentiments  of  humanity, 
to  think  of  these  poor  women " 

"  George,"  cried  Fleur-de-Lis,  "  you  will  see  to  this 
gentleman !  "  Then  turning  quickly  toward  Herve*,  he 
continued,  "  Commandant  Pelven,  look  out  for  your- 
self!" 

Herve*  shook  his  head  slowly,  but  he  did  not  move. 
Fie  lr-de-Lis  drew  back  a  little,  a  strange  smile  parted 
his  lips  and  showed  his  glittering  teeth ;  his  face 
assumed  an  almost  ferocious  expression.  He  lifted  his 
pistol,  but  almost  instantly  his  hand  dropped  at  his 
side  as  if  palsied,  and  the  pistol  fell  upon  the  floor. 

A  sound — extraordinary  in  this  hour  of  mortal  com- 
bat, the  sound  of  a  loud,  prolonged  laugh — froze  every 
heart  and  silenced  every  tongue. 


183  A    DEED    O^    DAKttfG. 

"It  is  my  sister,"  said  Monsieur  tie  Kergant  in  a  half 
whisper. 

Every  eye  followed  with  anxiety  the  direction  indi- 
cated by  the  trembling  hand  of  the  old  man.  The 
Oanoness,  standing  within  the  embrasure  of  the  win- 
dow that  had  been  thrown  open  to  give  Andree  air, 
was  gazing  out  with  a  fixed  expression.  She  continued 
to  laugh,  but  her  laugh  was  broken  by  convulsive  sobs. 

Suddenly  she  turned,  and  coming  toward  her  brother 
with  a  tottering  step,  she  said : 

"Why  do  you  not  laugh,  too  ?  You  are  very  strange. 
Have  you  never  seen  a  wedding.  As  soon  as  the 
violins  are  here  we  will  dance !  These  gentlemen  are 
all  invited,  I  presume  —  relatives,  possibly.  Jean, 
bring  chairs.  Gentlemen,  I  do  not  wish  to  give  offence, 
but  the  night  is  lovely,  and  it  would  be  better  to  dance 
without.  The  air  is  close  here — yes — very  close — and 
I  feel— I  feel— ah !  " 

The  voice  of  the  old  lady  ended  in  a  terrible  groan, 
then  with  a  sharp  cry  she  fell  into  her  brother's  arms. 

Shocked  by  this  terrible  scene,  the  Republicans  and 
the  Royalists  forgot  their  quarrels  and  their  dangers. 
Even  the  energetic  face  of  George  evinced  irresolution 
and  compassion. 

Fleur-de-Lis  exchanged  with  him  a  few  rapid  words, 
and  then  shrugging  his  shoulders,  he  advanced  toward 
Francis. 

"  We  are  ready  tc  follow  you,  sir,"  he  said ;  "  we 
surrender  our  arms      There  has  been  woe  enough  for 


A    D  E  E  D     OF    DARIXG.  183 

one  night.     Monsieur  de  Kergant   will   agree,   I  am 
sure  ?  " 

The  Marquis,  turning  his  head  a  little,  made  a  sign 
of  assent. 

Francis  expressed  with  politeness  and  feeling,  the 
regret  he  felt  at  having  been  the  cause  of  this  sorrow 
to  the  family ;  and  it  was  with  a  sinking  of  the  heart 
that  he  realized  that  he  must  tear  Monsieur  de  Kergant 
away  at  a  time  like  this.  He,  however,  knew  that  his 
duty  was  to  allow  no  delay  whatever.  He  announced, 
therefore,  that  Fleur-de-Lis,  George  and  the  Marquis, 
must  go  with  him,  while  the  other  inhabitants  of  the 
chateau  were  at  liberty  to  remain  there,  though  it  must 
be  as  prisoners  for  some  hours  at  least,  for  they  would 
be  obliged  to  break  up  the  bridges  to  prevent  the  alarm 
being  given  to  the  country  round  about.  The  young 
Lieutenant  then  gave  the  order  to  his  men  to  pull 
down  the  garden  bridge. 

During  this  discussion,  the  Canoness  had  returned 
to  consciousness,  but  her  strange  replies  to  the  ques- 
tions addressed  to  her  by  her  brother  indicated  that 
her  reason  was  seriously  disturbed.  Andree,  with  her 
arms  around  her  brother's  neck,  was  weeping  convul- 
sively on  his  breast.  Finding  that  Fleur-de-Lis  and 
George  were  already  out  of  sight,  Monsieur  de  Kergant 
turned  wilh  precipitation  toward  Francis  : 

"  May  I  see  my  family  alone,  sir?" 

u  I  am  afraid  not,"  was  the  reply. 

"Ah!  then  there  will  be  no  adieux,"  answered  the 
Marquis,  and  he  left  the  sal6n  at  once. 


184  A    DEED     OF     DARING. 

Pelven,  without  a  word,  laid  Andrei  on  the  couch, 
near  which  Bellah,  as  before,  mounted  guard.  With 
one  imploring  look,  which  included  Bellah  and  his 
heart-broken  sister,  Herve*  turned  away  and  joined 
Francis,  who  had  assembled  all  his  men  in  the  vesti- 
bule. 

Kado  did  not  choose  to  abandon  his  master,  and  he, 
with  the  three  other  prisoners,  followed  the  detach- 
ment, while  the  soldiers  were  busy  throwing  into  the 
moat  the  planks  of  which  the  bridge  had  been  built. 
Francis  asked  Fleur-de-Lis  to  give  him  his  word  that 
he  would  make  no  attempt  at  flight. 

Fleur-de-Lis  replied  that,  on  the  contrary,  he  should 
do  his  best  to  escape. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you,  sir,"  returned  Francis. 
"  You  force  me,  then,  to  the  most  rigid  surveillance-" 

The  double  ranks  of  soldiers  closed  at  once  on  the 
captives,  and,  as  an  excess  of  precaution,  each  was 
placed  under  the  official  guard  of  a  soldier,  who 
received  the  most  rigorous  orders.  After-  these  arrange- 
ments were  made,  the  signal  for  departure  was  given, 
and  the  march  began. 

Lieutenant  Francis,  in  his  heart  a  little  vain  glorious 
on  account  of  the  success  that  had  attended  his  expedi- 
tion, and  relieved  of  much  of  the  anxiety  he  had  felt, 
stepped  off  with  a  comparatively  light  heart,  enjoying 
the  delicious  sweetness  of  the  starry  night,  carelessly 
striking  the  bushes  as  he  passed,  with  his  sabre.  Herve", 
wrapped  in  his  cloak,  moved  less  cheerfully. 


A     DEED     OF     DARING.  185 

At  the  end  of  a  half  hour  they  reached  a  river  that 
ran  from  the  west  due  east. 

"  Unless  I  greatly  mistake,  Commandant,"  said  Fran 
cis,  breaking  this  long  silence,  which  weighed  heavi!\ 
on  his  spirits,  "this  river  is  that  which  crosses  the  dis 
trict  where  our  advance  guard  is  lodged.     You  ought 
to  know  every  inch  of  this  country. 

Herve*  answered  that  he  was  right,  that  the  road 
running  on  the  bank  of  the  river  led  directly  to  the 
little  town  which  he  had  himself  passed  that  morning. 
"And  now,"  said  Francis,  "you  had  best  take  com- 
mand of  your  men." 

"  Not  I !  for   you,  Francis,  have  acquitted  yoursel/ 
most  nobly  in  this  whole  affair." 

"  Ah,  Commandant,  it  is  simply  that  chance  has  been 
in  my  favor  much  more  than  it  has  in — but,  thank  God, 
it  has  all  turned  out  well !  " 
"  I  hope  so,"  answered  Pelven. 

"  Hope  so  ?  "  repeated  Francis.  "  Have  you  noticed 
ar^thing  suspicious  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  sudden  insanity  of  the 
old  lady?" 

" Do  you  mean  that  you  think  it  feigned? " 
"  It  was  probably  half  real  and  half  feigned.  Women 
have  this  singular  gift ;  but  I  have  a  notion  that  this 
crisis  served  as  a  means  for  conveying  some   secret 

warning  or  advice " 

Herve*  started,  and  pointed  to  a  faint  light  flickering 
over  the  leaves  of  the  trees  which  hung  over  the  road- 
side. 


186  A    DEED    OF    DARING. 

tk  What  is  that  ? "  asked  Francis,  going  toward  his 
men. 

"  Nothing,  my  Lieutenant,"  answered  Bruidoux ; 
"  the  prisoners  are  merely  lighting  their  pipes." 

Francis  looked  around,  and  saw  that  George  and 
Kado  were  indulging  in  the  innocent  amusement  of 
smoking,  and  in  the  intense  darkness  their  pipes  looked 
like  little  fiery  furnaces. 

The  young  Lieutenant  went  back  to  Pelven.  The 
road  along  which  the  detachment  was  toiling,  had  been 
for  some  minutes  a  gentle  ascent,  while  above,  rose 
thickly-wooded  hills — on  the  left  was  the  steep  bank  of 
the  river. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Francis,  looking  around  uneasily, 
"  that  we  did  not  take  the  other  side  of  the  river,  even 
if  it  is  a  longer  road.  This  gorge  begins  to  assume 
quite  a  cut-throat  aspect.  The  mountain  on  the  right 
is  black  as  night,  and  it  seems  to  me,  though  my  ears 
may  deceive  me,  that  I  hear,  above  the  noise  of  the 
wind  and  the  water,  an  odd  sort  of  noise." 

kfc  Forbid  the  prisoners  smoking,"  said  Hei've*,  hastily. 

Francis  turned  to  give  this  order,  but  before  he  had 
taken  three  steps,  a  sudden  flash  illuminated  the  hills 
and  the  road,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  hideous 
uproar  arose  from  the  heights  overlooking  the  road. 
Three  of  the  men  who  guarded  the  captives  fell , 
George  felled  the  fourth  with  a  blow  from  his  fist,  and 
then,  dashing  forward,  with  lowered  head  and  out- 
stretched neck,  like  an  incensed  bull,  he  broke  through 


A    DEEt)    OF    DAfcltfG.  1# 

the  soldiers,  making  a  way  for  his  companions,  who 
followed  quickly,  and  all  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 
Shouts  arose  on  all  sides,  and  a  few  shots  were  fired  at 
random  by  the  Republicans,  without  any  result.    . 

The  theatre  of  this  most  unexpected  attack  had  been 
chosen  with  marvellous  discernment.  It  was  the  most 
elevated  portion  of  the  defile.  In  front,  at  some  dis- 
tance, the  road  was  closed  by  a  black,  moving  mass, 
sweeping  down  the  hillside,  like  a  torrent ;  at  the  same 
time  a  dull  murmur,  like  the  sea,  rose  from  the  hills, 
announcing  that  they  were  occupied  by  a  large  body  of 
troops. 

The  Republicans  saw  that  they  were  lost  if  they 
took  one  step  forward,  although  Hervd's  first  idea  had 
been  to  force  a  path,  with  bayonets,  through  the  living 
mass,  but  he  reflected  that  he  had  already  lost  two- 
thirds  of  his  men,  under  the  scathing  fire  from  the 
hills,  and  the  order  was  not  given. 

Opposite  the  wood  and  the  hills,  the  road  widened 
into  a  semi-circle,  and  formed  a  sort  of  promontory 
running  out  into  the  river — a  bluff,  rising  some  thirty 
feet  from  the  water.  On  this  point  grew  a  few  trees 
and  a  vast  deal  of  underbrush,  inky  black  in  the  dark- 
ness. It  was  to  this  spot  that  the  Republican  soldiers 
retreated  in  their  first  confusion  and  surprise. 

With  their  back  to  the  abyss  and  their  faces  to  the 
invisible  enemy,  they  waited  in  silent  suspense. 

M  Lieutenant  Francis,"  said  Hervd,  just  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  the  soldiers,  "  I  shall  take  command 


188  A    DEED    OP    DARINft 


*'•  Good  !  "  muttered  Bruidoux  ;  u  I  am  delighted.  1 
don't  mean  anything  against  the  Lieutenant,  who  is  a 
nice  little  fellow,  but,  Zounds !  in  a  time  like  this  we 
want  something  bigger !  " 

Hervd  ordered  his  soldiers  to  form  into  three  lines 
facing  the  hill ;  then  going  himself  to  the  edge  of  the 
promontory,  he  leaned  over  the  edge,  at  the  foot  of 
which  boiled  the  river,  and  seemed  to  be  examining 
the  side  of  the  rock. 

"  Drowned  or  shot ;  that  is  about  it,  is  it  not  ?  "  asktd 
Francis  laconically. 

"  Hark !     Silence  !  "  said  Herve*. 

The  clear  ringing  voice  of  Fleur-de-Lis  rose  on 
the  air. 

"  Commandant  Pelven,"  he  said,  "  you  hear  me,  do 
you  not?" 

"  Yes.  sir ;  I  hear  you,"  answered  Herve\  advancing 
a  little. 

"You  are  surrounded,  sir,"  returned  Fleur-de-Lis, 
•'  with  the  forces  at  my  disposal.  I  can  destroy  you 
without  the  loss  of  one  drop  of  blood  on  our  side.  I 
shall  do  this  if  you  compel  me,  of  course.  W.e  know 
your  courage  and  your  attachment  to  your  duty,  but 
duty  stops  at  the  Impossible !     Surrender  at  once!" 

"  In  the  peculiar  position  which  I  hold,  sir,"  said 
llerv6,  in  reply,  "  I  cannot  reply  until  I  have  consulted 
with  my  Lieutenant.  Will  you  give  me  a  few  moments 
for  consideration  ?  " 

"  As  you  please,  sir,"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis ;  "  there 
is  n)  hurry." 


A    DEED     OF    DARING.  Iff 

Herve*  led  the  Lieutenant  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
promontory. 

"Listen  to  me,"  he  said  softly,  but  so  clearly  that 
not  a  word  was  lost  to  his  men,  who  listened  with  , 
breathless  attention.  "We  must  pay  these  people 
for  their  lavandieres  joke,  in  the  first  place ;  them 
again,  to  save  our  honor  and  our  lives,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary now  to  do,  what  I  have  done  over  and  over  again 
in  this  very  same  place,  out  of  the  mere  bravado  of 
youth.  Thanks  to  the  darkness  and  to  these  trees,  all 
movements  on  this  point  are  lost  to  our  enemies.  You 
see  that  sharp  projection;  just  underneath  there  is  a 
series  of  rough  steps  cut  by  Nature's  cunning  hand  in 
the  rough  stone.  When  this  ends,  you  will  find  only  a 
perpendicular  surface  as  smooth  as  your  hand;  have 
no  fear,  but  let  go  your  hold,  and  you  will  fall  into  a 
bed  of  soft  sand.  Enter  the  river  just  in  front  of  this 
rock ;  the  water  will  not  reach  your  knees,  I  am  quite 
sure,  or  to  your  waist  if  the  water  be  unusually  high, 
which  is  not  likely  at  this  season.  Each  man  must  go 
in  turn.  The  Sergeant  will  look  out  that  the  first  man 
Is  out  of  sight.  I,  in  the  meantime,  will  talk  with 
our  foes  in  order  to  gain  time.  Come,  boys,  keep  your 
heads ;  the  Lieutenant  will  show  }rou  the  road.  Hold 
well  on  to  the  roots  at  the  side,  Francis." 

Francis  began  to  speak,  but  Herve  ordered  him  to 
obey  without  further  discussion.  And  in  another 
moment  the  youth  disappeared  over  the  edge  of  the 
precipice.  Then  one  ol*  the  soldiers  followed.  This 
strange  method  of  escape  had  awakened  much  gayety 


190  A    DEEP    OF    DARING. 

among  the  soldiers.     Bruidoux,  kneeling  on  the  edge, 
saluted  each  departure  with  a  jesting  adieu. 

u  Bon  voyage!  Don't  forget  me,  my  boy!  Don't 
stop  to  rest  on  your  way !  Don't  get  your  hands  dirty ! 
Citoyen,  write  us,  won't  you,  Colibri?" 

Although  this  plan  was  explained  with  marvellous 
rapidity,  and  its  execution  commenced  as  promptly, 
Herve*  was  afraid  that  suspicion  would  be  aroused  by 
too  long  a  delay.  After  hastily  bidding  Bruidoux 
warn  him  when  the  last  line  of  men  was  left  on  the 
cliff,  he  went  back  to  the  road. 

"Monsieur!"  he  called,  "I  have  this  proposition  to 
make  to  you :  I  will  surrender  at  discretion,  and  my 
Lieutenant,  with  his  men,  must  be  allowed  to  return  to 
his  corps." 

"You  cannot  be  in  earnest,  Commandant,"  said 
Fleur-de-Lis.  "  When  you  are  all  in  our  hands,  you 
surely  cannot  expect  us  to  content  ourselves  with  a 
portion,  however  important  and  precious  it  may  be." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Herve^  who  asked  nothing 
better  than  to  prolong  the  discussion.  "  I  am  infinitely 
obliged  for  the  compliment,  but  is  it  not  possible  for 
you  to  be  less  exacting?  It  is  not  wise  to  reduce  an 
enemy  to  despair,  no  matter  how  feeble  he  may  be." 

"I  repeat,  sir,"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis,  in  a  more 
menacing  tone,  "that  I  cannot  believe  you  to  be 
serious.     Have  you  nothing  else  to  say  ?  " 

"  What  conditions  are  you  willing  to  make  ?  " 

"I  am  ready  to  promise  you  your  live?,  provided  you 
agree  to  serve  under  the  King's  flag." 


A    DEED     OF    DARING.  191 

"You  hear  that?"  murmured  Bruidoux  in  the  eur  of 
his  superior  officer.  "Mori  Commandant"  he  ml  led, 
"all  but  the  last  line  are  gone." 

"Let  them  stand  firm,"  answered  Herve*,  and  then 
drawing  back  a  little,  he  said  : 

"Monsieur  Fleur-de-Lis,  our  honor  will  not  allow  us 
to  accept  such  conditions." 

"  Fire  !  "  cried  Fleur-de-Lis. 

The  hill  blazed  with  light,  and  a  formidable  explo- 
sion re-echoed  through  the  valley.  By  this  light  the 
Chouans  perceived  the  line  of  Republican  soldiers,  and 
could  not  suspect  the  disappearance  of  the  others. 
Pelven  had  dreaded  this,  but  had  hoped  that  the  dark- 
ness would  render  the  aim  of  the  enemy  inaccurate. 
Three  men  fell. 

"Fire!  boys,"  said  Herve*5  "and  then  make  your 
escape." 

The  soldiers  obeyed,  and  the  speed  with  which  they 
retreated  to  the  edge  of  the  promontory  may  be  readily 
imagined.  Bruidoux  was  determined  not  to  leave  his 
Commandant,  but  he  received  an  imperative  order  tc 
follow  his  companions. 

Herve*  was  now  left  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  thick 
smoke  that  made  the  darkness  still  greater.  Again  he 
turned  to  the  Royalists. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  my  Lieutenant  and  myselJ 
surrender  on  condition  — " 

"Shout  Vive  le  roil"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis.  "Shout 
with  all  your  heart  and  soul,  for  you  ?xe  a  brave  fellow, 
after  all ! " 


lte  1    DEED     OF    DARING, 

Hervd  cast  one  quick  glance  back;  seeing,  as  he 
thought,  two  or  three  forms  still  on  the  rock,  the 
intrepid  youth  again  faced  the  enemy. 

"I  am  willing,"  he  began,  "to  save  the  rest  of  my 
men  by  — " 

"Shout  Vive  le  roi /"  repeated  Fleur-de-Lis.  "No? 
Very  well  then.     Fire  !  " 

A  new  volley.  Pelven  heard  the  balls  whistle  around 
him,  but  they  respected  him.  The  flash,  however,  had 
shown  the  enemy  that  the  promontory  was  vacant. 

"Good  Heavens!  What  does  that  mean?  They 
have  disappeared  ?  "  cried  Fleur-de-Lis. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  they  have  disappeared  !  Vive  la  Bepub- 
lique  !  "  shouted  Pelven,  waving  his  sword  in  the  air  in 
his  triumph ;  then  dashing  to  the  edge  of  the  rocks,  he 
disappeared  down  the  perilous  descent.  Before  he  was 
at  the  base  of  the  rocks,  balls  were  flying  over  his 
head,  and  stones  dropped  aronnd  him,  but  he  fell  safe 
and  sound  on  the  sand  by  the  river. 

A  few  minutes  later,  a  joyous  shout  from  the  opposite 
shore  of  the  river,  announced  to  the  Chouans  who  had 
crowded  upon  the  promontory,  that  Hervd  was  safe  an  A 
sound  among  his  men. 

Before  Pelven's  foot  fairly  touched  the  shore,  Franr 
cis  leaped  on  his  neck.  The  two  young  men  warmly 
embraced  each  other.  After  a  few  moments  of  anxious 
suspense,  the  small  body  of  Republican  troops,  feeling 
certain  that  the  Whites  had  renounced  their  pursuit, 
moved  with  a  rapid  step  across  the  country. 


THE     MENDICANT.  193 

CHAPTER    XII. 

THE    MENDICANT. 

I^HE  Civil  wars  of  the  West,  had  often  disconcerted 
_  the  most  skilful  military  science ;  they  were  directed 
on  the  Republican  side  by  improvised  captains,  who  in 
their  turn,  improvised  the  most  unprecedented  tactics 
appropriate  to  the  locality,  and  to  the  peculiar  charac- 
teristics of  their  men.  Invention  took  the  place  of 
experience,  and  audacity,  of  method. 

The  Republican  army,  after  the  forced  march  that 
had  taken  them  to  Ploermel,  relapsed  into  anxious 
inactivity.  All  reconnoisances  in  the  vicinity  were 
fruitless.  Two  or  three  battalions  swept  the  country; 
they  found  it  either  deserted  or  perfectly  tranquil. 
They  could  perceive  nothing  that  confirmed  the  report 
in  circulation,  that  Royalist  troops  were  about  to  land 
under  the  protection  of  English  guns.  The  number 
and  subsequent  movements  of  these  forces,  were  the 
object  of  reports  so  vague  and  contradictory,  that  the 
General-in-Chief  was  plunged  into  strange  perplexity. 

After  the  bold  blow  struck  by  the  Breton  insurgents 
as  if  to  celebrate  the  arrival  of  their  new  chief,  they 
kept  very  quiet  until,  as  we  see,  they  rose  in  defence 
of  Fleur-de-Lis.  A  Republican  brigade,  dashing  off  in 
pursuit  of  them  at  daybreak,  had  found  some  twenty 
18 


194  THE     MENDICANT. 

peasants  scattered  over  the  tields  or  within  their  huts* 
these  worthy  persons  revealed  to  the  soldiers  in  confi- 
dence, that  they  thought  they  had  heard  the  sound  of 
musketry  at  about  one  o'clock  in  the  night,  and  had 
at  once  shut  themselves  up. 

The  officers  used  their  authority  to  prevent  their  men 
from  ill-treating  these  hypocrites,  and  continued  their 
march  some  two  leagues  further  to  Kergant,  which  was 
found  to  be  deserted ;  several  horsemen  galloped  on  to 
Pontivy,  and  came  back  to  announce  that  there  was 
not  the  smallest  indication  of  the  Whites. 

Among  the  regular  reports  in  circulation  in  the  town, 
there  was  one  which  was  received  by  the  General  at 
first  with  absolute  incredulity.  This  report  was  to  the 
effect  that  the  vast  Royalist  army  had  taken  refuge  in 
the  forest  of  La  Nouee*,  which  extended  five  leagues 
northwest  of  Ploermel  upon  the  Morhiban  frontier. 
Similar  retreats  had  more  than  once  protected,  in  the 
course  of  the  last  campaign,  the  debris  of  Vende'an  or 
Breton  troops,  but  it  was  difficult  to  imagine  that  a 
victorious  army,  mistress  of  all  the  highways  and  of 
all  the  country,  could  have  deliberately  and  wilfully 
enter  the  depths  of  a  wood,  thus  retaining  of  all  her 
conquests,  only  the  most  indifferent,  if  not  the  most 
dangerous  position.  Finally,  after  the  return  of  these 
expeditions,  which  had  been  so  unsuccessful,  the 
General  yielded  to  the  force  of  public  opinion,  unrea- 
sonable as  it  might  appear  to  him,  and  went  in  person 
to  reconnoitre  the  suspicious  locality.     Contrary  to  hia 


THE     MENDICANT.  195 

expectations,  all  he  saw  indicated  the  presence  of  the 
enemy.  Every  road  leading  toward  La  Nouee*  bore 
traces  of  a  hasty  march  —  wheels  had  cut  the  road, 
horses  had  pawed  it,  and  injured  everything  in  the 
vicinity.  The  soil  was  strewed  with  fragments  of 
clothing,  with  broken  wheels,  and  debris  of  furniture 
and  cooking  utensils.  The  General  drew  rein  upon 
a  hill,  and  looked  thoughtfully  toward  this  black  forest, 
which  to  his  imagination,  bristled  with  bayonets.  He 
fancied  that  he  heard  a  distant  murmur  like  that  of  a 
gigantic  bee-hive.  He  at  once  ordered  two  companies 
to  advance  on  the  forest ;  they  were  driven  back  by  a 
quick  discharge  of  musketry. 

It  was  made  apparent,  therefore,  that  the  enemy 
were  there,  and  not  disposed  to  conceal  their  presence. 
It  was  only  their  design  that  they  veiled  in  mystery. 
They  did  not  decline  a  skirmish  when  proffered,  but 
evidently  intended  to  do  battle  in  the  hour  and  the 
way,  that  seemed  best  to  themselves. 

The  General-in-Chief  returned  to  his  quarters.  The 
certainty  that  he  had  acquired,  only  augmented  his 
anxieties ;  he  could  not  conceive  what  end  the  Chouans 
had  in  view;  the  intelligence  brought  him  by  the  scouts 
he  sent  out,  were  so  vague  and  often  contradictory  that 
it  was  worse  than  nothing.  Traitors  were  rare  among 
the  Bretons,  and  more  so  than  ever,  since  the  chances 
were  all  now  in  their  favor.  A  few  spies  ventured  into 
the  mysterious  forest,  but  they  were  never  seen  again. 

The  General  had  no  choice  but  to  submit  to  the 


196  TnE     MENDICANT. 

conditions  thus  imposed  upon  him  by  the  enemy ;  five 
days  elapsed  in  this  indecision.  The  lines  of  the 
Republican  army  were  extended  over  three  leagues, 
from  Ploermel  to  the  river  we  have  more  than  once 
mentioned,  and  to  the  little  town  that  seemed  to  guard 
it.  One  more  topographical  detail  is  essential,  in 
order  that  our  readers  may  fully  understand  the  events 
which  we  are  about  to  narrate.  We  beg  them,  there- 
fore, to  fix  their  attention  on  the  fact  that  Ploermel 
on  the  East,  and  Kergant  on  the  West,  form  two  sides 
of  an  almost  triangular  plain,  the  Northern  point  of 
which  is  the  forest  of  La  Nouee*. 

The  woodman's  axe  had  not,  at  the  time  of  which 
we  write,  desecrated  the  forest  and  opened  the  wide 
space  toward  the  South  which  now  so  greatly  injures 
its  extent  and  it3  dignity.  It  was  in  this  part  of  the 
forest  that,  on  the  evening  of  the  22d  of  June,  two 
persons  most  pitiable  in  appearance  were  slowly  toiling 
along;  one  of  these  was  a  begger,  whose  age  and 
infirmities  were  great;  he  was  sustained  and  guided 
by  a  young  girl,  whose  height  would  have  seemed 
somewhat  extraordinary  for  a  woman,  if  fatigue  and 
possibly  privations  had  not  bowed  it  somewhat.  This 
poor  creature  had  covered  her  ragged  skirts  with  the 
remains  of  a  cloak,  the  hood  of  which  was  pulled  well 
forward,  and  half  concealed  features  indicating  both 
stupidity  and  cunning. 

The  old  man  and  his  rags  were  of  the  sordid  and 
picturesque  type   of  the   classic  beggar,  a  race  now 


passing  away,  like  many  others;  a  certain  astute 
coquetry  seemed  to  have  arranged  his  parti-colored 
rags  as  if  to  charm  a  painter's  eye.  One  of  his  legs 
had  been  amputated  at  the  knee,  and  was  supported 
by  a  rough  piece  of  wood;  and,  as  the  crowning  touch 
of  woe,  the  man  was  blind. 

The  sun  was  setting  behind  dark  clouds  fringed  with 
gold,  when  this  wretched  pair  reached  a  path  leading 
into  the  heart  of  the  forest.  The  heat,  in  spite  of  the 
late  hour,  was  stifling ;  not  a  leaf  stirred  in  the  trees, 
distant  thunder  was  heard  at  intervals,  and  clouds  of 
crows  flew  about,  uttering  hoarse  caws  of  dismay. 

"  I  have  been  a  sailor  in  my  day,"  said  the  old  man, 
"and  I  tell  you,  my  child,  that  we  shall  have  a  terrible 
storm  to-night." 

The  child,  as  he  called  his  companion,  did  not  reply. 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  forest,  apparently  measuring 
its  depths  with  some  anxiety.  The  beggar  pulled  her 
by  the  cloak,  and  made  her  sit  down  at  his  side  on  the 
mossy  turf  beneath  a  tree.  He  talked  to  her  in  a  low 
voice  for  some  time,  apparently  giving  her  some  severe 
admonitions  and  parental  advice.  After  this  brief  con- 
ference, the  man  seemed  to  make  an  effort,  and  finally 
struggling  to  his  feet,  entered  the  forest,  limping  on  his 
companion's  arm.  They  had  not  advanced  a  hundred 
feet  when  three  men  appeared  before  them,  dropping 
from  the  trees  like  ripe  fruit,  and  at  the  same  moment, 
ten  or  more,  with  guns,  came  out  of  the  underbrush  and 
surrounded  the  adventurous  pair. 


101  THE     MENDICANT. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  said  one 
who  appeared  to  be  the  chief  of  the  ambuscade. 

"  Ah !  child,"  cried  the  blind  man,  "  are  these  the 
Blues?" 

"  No  father,"  answered  the  girl,  with  a  disagreeable 
nasal  twang:  "these  are  good  men,  and  true.  They 
won't  hurt  us,  and  you  can  speak  out.  Is  not  that  so 
gentlemen?" 

"  Let  him  speak,"  answered  the  Chouan,  "  we  are 
ready  enough  to  listen." 

"  Don't  make  a  mistake,  child,"  said  the  beggar 
"the  servants  of  the  good  God  and  the  King  are  not 
usually  so  short  with  poor  people." 

"  The  times  are  bad,  my  man,"  answered  the  Chouan, 
"  and  the  Devil  is  cunning." 

"Yes,  my  son,  and  it  is  foolish  to  be  too  confident. 
Let  me  feel  of  your  coat,  for  it  is  a  long  time  since  my 
eyes  could  tell  me  an}rthing." 

The  old  man  placed  his  hand  on  the  Chouan's  breast. 

"  The  Heart  and  the  Cross,"  he  murmured,  "  that  is 
good.  Long  live  the  King,  my  children !  Where  is 
Fleur-de-Lis,  whom  all  the  Saints  guard?  Where  is 
he?    I  must  speak  to  him." 

"  Fleur-de-Lis  has  no  time  to  waste,  my  good  man." 

"  But  he  won't  waste  his  time  with  me,  my  handsome 
young  soldier;  that  you  may  be  very  sure  of!  I  have 
come  a  long  distance  with  this  girl  of  mine,  who  has 
just  recovered  from  a  fever,  and  we  both  need  rest.  I 
said  when  we  started,  that  I  did  not  mind  fatigue  in 


THE      MENDICANT.  199 

the  service  of  the  King,  and  I  don't.  Ah !  think  only 
that  the  King  will  have  his  own  again  at  last.  When 
that  day  comes  they  may  lay  me  in  the  earth,  I  shall 
be  ready  to  go  then." 

"You  talk  too  much,  father,"  interrupted  the  com- 
panion of  this  fanatic,  "you  know  we  were  told  to  waste 
no  time." 

"  Yes,  child,  yes !  You  are  right.  Where  is  Fleur- 
de-Lis  ?  I  have  something  for  him,  something  which  I 
have  brought  out  from  under  the  very  noses  of  the 
Blues." 

The  old  man  laughed  and  thrusting  his  hand  among 
his  rags,  he  brought  out  a  package  of  letters  carefully 
sealed  ;  the  envelope  was  marked  in  one  corner  with  a 
peculiar  sign  in  the  form  of  a  cross  of  Fleur-de-Lis.  The 
chief  of  the  squad  of  Chouans  hesitated  no  longer;  he 
bade  the  two  adventurers  follow  him,  and  led  them  into 
the  winding  paths  of  the  forest.  They  were  soon 
arrested  by  an  entrenchment  of  felled  trees,  behind 
which  were  encamped  a  hundred  men  or  so.  This  post 
was  passed  with  an  exchange  of  words  uttered  in  a  low 
voice,  but  at  a  short  distance  there  was  another  barri- 
cade ;  the  forest  seemed  to  be  literally  cut  up  by  these 
fortifications,  of  which  many  were  still  further  pro- 
tested  by  deep  ditches. 

Most  of  the  men  wore  no  other  uniform  than  the 
coat  of  the  Breton  peasant,  with  a  scarf  of  some  woolen 
material  around  them,  into  which  pistols  were  thrust. 
Almost  all  wore  heavy  shoes  filled  with  straw.  Women 
and  children  were  hovering  over  the  fires- 


230  THE     MENDICANT. 

The  entire  forest  looked  like  a  great  village;  cattle 
were  tethered  here  and  there ;  arms  were  stacked,  and 
sheep  grazed  around  them.  A  confused  noise  of  voices 
and  footsteps  arose  from  under  these  forest  arches  — 
sometimes  in  a  loud  clamor,  but  more  often  in  a  monot- 
onous murmur.  But  for  the  character  of  the 
vegetation,  and  the  costumes,  one  might  have  thought 
the  scene  an  oasis  in  the  desert,  occupied  by  a  wander- 
ing and  warlike  tribe.  After  a  march  of  a  half  hour 
or  more,  the  guide  informed  the  old  man  in  a  compas- 
sionate tone  that  they  had  nearly  arrived  at  their 
destination.  As  he  spoke,  he  turned  into  a  much 
wider  path,  above  which,  interlaced  branches  formed  a 
ceiling. 

The  silence  that  reigned  in  this  privileged  part  of 
the  forest  increased  the  effect  of  its  obscurity.  The 
blind  man  felt  his  companion's  hand  tremble  in  his. 

tk  What  is  it,"  he  said  softly,  as  the  guide  preceded 
them  at  some  distance,  "what  impression  has  all  this 
produced  on  you ?  " 

"Sergeant,"  answered  the  girl  in  the  same  low  tone, 
"I  am  aghast  and  bewildered." 

"  Come,  now,"  returned  the  old  man,  "  this  will  never 
do.  Remember  that  this  devilish  forest  may  become 
to  us  a  temple  of  glory." 

"  Yes,  of  glory,  Sergeant." 

t;  Yes,  of  glory  now,  and  in  the  future.  Don't  you 
wish  to  see  your  name  written  in  letters  of  gold?  But 
what  the  deuce  is  that  machine  there?  It  is  a  cannon, 
if  I  live  !  " 


THE     MENDICANT.  201 

The  good  man  continued  to  mutter  between  hia 
teeth.  The  guide  was  conversing  with  two  sentinels 
posted  at  the  extremity  of  this  strange  path;  the 
thickening  twilight  permitted  the  strangers  to  distin- 
guish in  a  large  circular  space,  a  symmetrical  arrange- 
ment of  tents  and  low  huts;  some  of  these  huts  were 
more  solid  than  others,  and  looked  as  if  more  recently 
constructed.  Several  covered  paths  like  that  which 
our  adventurers  had  just  followed,  converged  from  this 
point,  protected  by  lines  of  ditches  and  barricades. 
This  camp  seemed  to  hold  in  this  forest  the  place  held 
by  the  donjon  of  the  moyen  age.  All  the  elements  of  a 
combat  a  Voutrance  and  of  a  desperate  defence  were 
there  assembled.  This  order  and  quiet,  so  religiously 
preserved,  announced  the  presence  of  the  most  import- 
ant chiefs,  and  the  discipline  of  picked  troops ;  in  fact, 
the  soldiers  who  lay  stretched  on  the  turf,  or  sat  talking 
in  the  door-ways  of  the  cabins  wore,  with  few  excep- 
tions, a  green  coat  and  red  vest;  the  uniform,  in  short, 
of  the  Royalist  chasseurs;  it  was  this  redoubtable 
corps  which  had  swallowed  up  all  the  heroes  of  the  old 
wars,  after  the  new  treaties  were  made. 

By  this  time  fires  were  lighted  within  all  the  cabins, 
and  threw  their  flickering  light  upon  the  groups 
scattered  over  the  clearing.  Fierce  and  resolute  faces 
looked  out  from  the  darkness,  and  were  immediately 
lost  again.  The  guide  stopped  in  the  centre  of  the 
camp,  in  front  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  largest  huts, 
before   which  a  numerous    guard    was    placed.      He 


202  THE    MENDICANT. 

entered  this  hut  alone,  and  in  a  few  minutes  emerged 
in  search  of  the  blind  man  and  his  companion,  and  led 
them  into  the  presence  of  Fleur-de-Lis. 

The  young  chief  was  seated  behind  a  table  talking 
with  George ;  two  men  in  ecclesiastical  garments  Avere 
writing  on  one  corner  of  the  same  table,  and  a  number 
of  officers  were  standing  in  little  groups,  in  the  space 
between  the  table  and  the  door.  All  conversation 
ceased  when  the  mendicant  entered,  led  by  his 
daughter,  who  placed  him  directly  in  front  of  the 
chief,  and  thei»  retired  with  awkward  reverence.  The 
man  with  his  letters  in  his  hand,  and  his"  whole  figure 
expressing  intense  humility,  seemed  to  wait  to  be  ques- 
tioned. Fleur-de-Lis  turned  the  light  of  a  lamp  on  the 
mysterious  messenger,  and  studied  him  with  his  keen 
questioning  eyes  from  head  to  foot. 

"Whence  come  you?"  he  said,  finally,  "and  who 
sent  you." 

"Is  that  you,  Fleur-de-Lis? "  asked  the  old  man. 

"It  is  I." 

"  What  an  awful  thing  it  is  to  be  blind,"  ejaculated 
the  old  man,  with  a  mournful  shake  of  the  head.  "  It 
would  be  a  cheering  sight  to  an  old  soldier  to  see  your 
face,  Fleur-de-Lis." 

"  You  have  served  in  the  army  then,  my  good 
man?" 

"I  was  at  Fontenoy,  my  General.  It  was  there  that 
I  was  shot  through  the  knee.  The  King,  Louis  XV., 
was  there  too ;  we  made  him  a  bed  that  night  of  the 


THE    MEKDICAKT.  20V 

English  flags,  and  I  remember  how  he  said  that  a  king 
of  France  ought  not  to  like  these  flags  except  under 
his  feet." 

At  this  souvenir,  evoked  by  the  old  man,  all  those 
present  lifted  their  hats,  and  bowed  profoundly  toward 
Fleur-de-Lis,  whose  color  rose  in  his  cheeks. 

41  Upon  my  word,  gentlemen,"  he  said  with  a  smile, 
"this  is  a  most  unexpected  encouragement  for  me.  The 
blood  of  the  conquerors  of  Cressy  and  Agincourt  runs 
still  in  the  viens  of  the  French,  it  seems ;  but  whence 
come  you,  mon  brave  ?  " 

"  From  Normandy,  mon  General.    Monsieur  de  Frote* . 
brought  me  as  far  as  Fougens  in  his  carriole.     I  have 
made  my  way  through  the  enemy's  lines  to  bring  you 
this  package. 

"  Ah,  you  are  a  Normand,  then  ?  "  said  Fleur-de-Lis, 
"  and  from  whence  ?  " 

"  From  the  vicinity  of  Coutances,  mon  General." 

"  Ah !  "  resumed  Fleur-de-Lis,  looking  from  the  blind 
beggar  to  his  companion.  Then  addressing  the  man  in 
the  patois  of  Coutances,  and  receiving  a  reply  in  the 
same  dialect,  he  said  with  a  laugh : 

"Yes,  gentlemen,  he  is  unquestionably  a  bona-fide 
Normand,"  and  at  once  proceeded  to  break  the  seals  of 
the  package.  After  he  hatf.  read  all  the  letters  which 
it  contained,  he  picked  up  the  wrapper  from  the  floor, 
where  he  had  thrown  it,  and  examined  the  broken  seal 
with  great  care ;  then  fixing  his  flashing  eyes  on  the 
blind  man,  an  expression  )f  great  anxiety  passed  over 


t6i  TGS    MEftDlCAtff, 

his  face,  but  the  tranquil  and  venerable  air  of  the 
beggar,  seemed  to  dissipate  the  vague  distrust  of  the 
young  chief.      He  seated  himself  at  the  table  : 

"My  good  man,"  he  said,  "you  will  be  obliged  to 
set  out  again  to-night.  I  am  sorry  to  compel  you  to 
this  fatigue,  but  I  will  arrange  matters  in  such  a  way 
that  you  will  not  regret  it.  You  will  find  at  the  turn 
of  the  Pommier  Fleuri,  a  half  league  from  Plelan,  an 
agent  of  Monsieur  de  Froths,  who  will  take  the  rest 
of  the  journey  upon  himself.  If  you  love  the  King 
you  will  allow  yourself  to  be  cut  into  inch  bits,  rather 
than  lose  the  note  which  I  shall  entrust  to  you." 

As  Fleur-de-Lis  spoke,  he  began  to  write  a  few  words 
in  great  haste.  When  he  had  sealed  and  directed  this 
letter,  he  held  it  out  over  the  table  to  the  beggar.  The 
man  instantly  extended  his  hand  to  take  it. 

"Ah!  you  can  see  then,  my  friend,  can  you?"  cried 
Fleur-de-Lis,  hastily  drawing  back  the  letter. 

"  Treason  !  "  be  shouted,  "  treason  !  Arrest  the  spy 
and  his  daughter." 

At  this  sound  a  number  of  soldiers  rushed  into  the 
hut,  but  the  officers  had  already  grasped  the  pretended 
mendicant  and  his  companion,  after  a  resistance  which 
was  shortened  by  the  strong  right  arm  of  George. 

The  wooden  leg  of  the  beggar,  his  gray  hair,  and  the 
red  locks  of  his  daughter,  were  detached  in  the 
struggle. 

"  Your  name,  comrade  ?  "  said  Fleur-de-Lis,  when  all 
was  again  calm. 


THE     MENDICANT.  205 

"Bruidoux,  Sergeant  of  Grenadiers,  battalion  of 
Sanspeur." 

"  You  know  the  laws  of  war,  and  you  know  the  fate 
that  awaits  you.     Have  you  anything  to  say  ?  " 

"No,  nothing  so  far  as  I  myself  am  concerned.  But 
I  dragged  this  young  fellow  into  the  expedition  against 
his  own  will,  and  if  you  would  let  him  live,  I  should 
find  death  much  easier. " 

"  Impossible,  comrade.  But  we  may  possibly  come 
to  some  understanding:  will  you  enter  the  service  of 
the  King?" 

"Why  not  ask  if  I  will  enter  the  service  of  the 
Pope,"  answered  Bruidoux,  with  great  gravity. 

u  And  you,  young  man,  what  is  your  answer?  "  asked 
Fleur-de-Lis,  approaching  the  other  prisoner. 

This  question  was  followed  by  a  long  silence,  during 
which  Bruidoux's  brow  contracted  with  intense 
anguish. 

"  Monsieur,"  murmured  the  young  captive  in  a  faint 
voice,  "  the  Sergeant  is  my  superior,  he  speaks  for  us 
both." 

At  these  words  the  muscles  in  the  old  Sergeant's 
face  relaxed,  and  a  tear  glided  down  his  bronzed 
cheek. 

"It  is  a  great  pity,"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis,  "for  we 
can  appreciate  courage.  Do  not  imagine  that  I  am 
asking  you  to  betray  your  country,  we  serve  France  as 
web  as  yourselves — better  than  you,  we  think.  I  shall 
give  you  an  hour  for  reflection,  for  I  am  interested  in 
you." 


306  TnE     MENDICANT. 

"  Benede'cite', "  added  the  young  chief  turning  toward 
one  of  the  chasseurs,  "  take  these  men  into  the  empty 
hut  at  the  end  of  the  camp,  guard  them  well  and  at 
the  end  of  an  hour,  if  they  have  not  changed  their 
minds,  they  are  to  be  shot.  It  is  unnecessary  to  come- 
to  me  for  further  orders  on  the  subject  —  indeed,  I  shall 
not  then  be  in  camp  at  that  time." 

Benede'cite',  an  old  Chouan,  of  rough  and  sulky  mien, 
placed  the  prisoners  in  the  centre  of  a  squad  of  chas- 
seurs, and  left  the  hut. 

The  intelligence  of  the  bold  attempt  made  by  the 
two  Republican  spies,  had  been  circulated  through,  the 
camp,  and  they  were  met  by  crowds  of  soldiers,  who 
gazed  at  them  with  eager  curiosity,  a  curiosity  which 
was  far  more  respectful  than  insulting ;  for  the  very 
audacity  of  these  men  had  pleased  these  adventurous 
spirits,  whose  only  science  was  comprised  in  two  words 
— bravery  and  cunning. 

The  captives  were  led  to  a  hut  a  little  apart  from  the 
others,  situated  at  the  very  end  of  the  camp  and  stand 
ing  under  a  huge  oak  tree.  This  hut  had  no  windows 
but  was  sufficiently  ventilated  through  the  disjointed 
hinges  of  a  heavy  door. 

Benede'cite'  and  his  men  laid  the  two  Republicans 
on  the  floor  of  the  hut,  their  arms  and  legs  were  tied, 
and  then  coming  back  again  placed  a  small  lamp  in  the 
corner.  • 

41  This  is  your  dock,"  said  Benddicte*,  "  when  you 
§ee  it  going  out,  your  hour  has  come." 


THE     MENDICANT.  20f 

After  these  grim  words  the  Chouan  left  the  hut. 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  said  Bruidoux,  after  meditating  a 
moment,  "this  is  an  adventure  which  I  must  admit  is 
not  a  very  agreeable  one.  In  the  first  place  these 
beasts  have  tied  these  cords  so  tight,  that  they  are  cut- 
ting into  my  very  bones.  I  did  not  care  to  ask  them 
to  be  more  gentle,  but  I  am  afraid,  my  poor  Colibri, 
that  they  have  not  treated  you  in  any  better  fashion." 

"  No,  Sergeant,"  answered  Colibri,  "  but  I  don't 
think  it  makes  much  difference  now." 

"  I  understand  what  you  mean,"  replied  Bruidoux  in 
an  odd  sort  of  voice,  "but  you  see— upon  my  word  I 
am  as  hoarse  as  a  crow,  I  must  have  taken  cold.  Ah ! 
Colibri,  I  feel  pretty  badly ;  for  me  it  does  not  matter, 
but  my  heart  sinks  when  I  think  about  you,  and  that  it 
was  I  who  led  you  into  this  scrape.  But  I  swear  to 
you,  Colibri,  I  thought  I  was  making  your  fortune.  I 
had  always  liked  you,  and  I  believed  your  superiors 
and  your  companions  would  think  all  the  better  of  you 
after  an  expedition  of  this  kind.  It  was  a  good  idea, 
Colibri,  an  excellent  idea,  but  just  now  I  don't  like  it 
as  well.  Colibri,  you  must  tell  me,  my  boy,  if — if — 
that  is,  to  say — you  must  tell  me  if  you  forgive  me." 

"  I  forgive  you  with  all  my  heart,  Sergeant," 
answered  Colibri,  "I  am  well  aware  that  it  was  for  my 
good,  although  the  plan  has  not  succee  led." 

"  You  are  a  brave  fellow,"  murmured  Bruidoux, 
whose  voice  was  hoarser  than  before.  Then,  after  a 
brief  silence,  he  repeated: 


208  THE     MEJJDiCAKf. 

"  Yes,  you  are  a  brave  fellow,  and  you  can  always 
boast  of  having  won  my  esteem,  though  I  don't  see 
what  good  that  will  ever  do  you." 

"Then  there  is  no  hope?"  asked  the  young  man. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  answered  the  Sergeant,  once 
more  speaking  in  his  old  pompous  voice,  "the  doctors 
say  that  while  there  is  life  there  is  hope.  But  as  to 
saying,  that  I  regard  our  present  position  as  an  advan- 
tageous one,  I  must  frankly  say  I  do  not.  The  enemy 
have  a  great  advantage  over  us  —  an  advantage  that 
6eems  to  me  decisive.  I  say  so,  for  I  don't  like  decep- 
tion in  an  hour  like  this.  I  suppose  we  had  best  make 
those  reflections  which  are  suitable  to -the  occasion." 

A  new  silence  succeeded  this  somewhat  involved 
declaration  from  the  old  Sergeant.  A  sudden  flash  of 
lightning  coming  through  the  cracks  of  the  door,  paled 
the  light  of  the  lamp,  and  a  great  crash  of  thunder,  at 
the  same  moment,  showed  that  the  storm  which  had 
been  gathering  all  the  evening,  had  at  last  burst  over 
the  forest. 

"  Once,  at  the  farm,"  said  Colibri,  "  the  lightning  set 
fire  to  a  barn,  and  after  that  my  father,  in  a  thunder 
shower,  used  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room,  while  my 
mother  said  her  prayers,  in  the  corner  by  the  fire,  and 
this  greatly  comforted  my  father." 

"  Of  course  it  did,  my  boy,"  Bruidoux  replied,  "and 
what  were  the  prayers  this  good  worn  in  recited." 

"Well,  Sergeant,  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you 
•xactly,  but  they  were  prayers  to  the  ban  Dieu." 


THE      MEXDICANT.  209 

"Do  you  remember  tliem,  Colibri?" 

44  Yes,  Sergeant,  I  think  I  do." 

44  Well,  then,  my  boy — Bless  me,  what  a  flash  that 
was !  For  a  moment  I  thought  I  was  blinded,  and 
who  ever  heard  such  thunder !  Ah !  well,  Colibri,  the 
Republic  has  made  a  mistake  I  fancy,  in  offending 
Almighty  God,  for  there  are  hours  and  occasions  when 
the  rights  of  a  man  and  a  citizen,  are  a  poor  consola- 
tion !  As  to  myself,  Colibri,  I  have  never  done  any 
harm  to  a  woman  nor  to  a  child,  nor  even  to  a  dog, 
but  yet  if  you  happen  to  have  a  bit  of  a  prayer  in  your 
mind,  it  would  be,  perhaps,  just  as  well  for  you  to  let 
it  pass  your  lips." 

44  Very  well,  Sergeant,"  said  Colibri. 

44  And  you  may  as  well  speak  pretty  loud,"  added  the 
Sergeant. 

There  was  a  momentary  silence,  Colibri  was  collect- 
ing his  thoughts. 

44  Sergeant,"  he  said  presently,  44  this  is  what  my  dear 

mother  used  to    say "     Colibri  checked    himself 

suddenly;  the  door  opened  with  a  creak  of  its  rusty 
hinges,  the  prisoners  realized  that  they  were  not  alone, 
but  it  was  impossible,  in  the  position  in  which  they  lay, 
and  confined  as  they  were,  to  perceive  who  it  was  who 
had  intruded  upon  them  in  this  supreme  hour. 

4t  The  lamp  is  there,"  said  Bruidoux,  quietly,  "  would 
it  not  be  as  well  if  it  were  allowed  to  show  some  light 
on  our  guest." 

44  Speak  lower,  Sergeant,"  said  a  low  masculine  voice. 
14 


210  THE     MENDICANT. 

"I  know  those  tones,"  murmured  the  Sergeant; 
"  who  are  you,  friend  ?  " 

"  Kado  ! " 

u  Ah!  the  father  of  the  small  citizen  with  the  trp  . 
Have  you  come  to  our  assistance,  my  friend  ?  " 

"  Speak  lower,  I  tell  you,  the  door  is  wide  open,  and 
the  sentinel  as  he  passes,  is  never  more  than  ten  feet 
away." 

At  the  same  moment,  the  sentry  stopped  near  the 
door. 

"  The  prisoners,"  said  Kado,  "  were  just  asking  me 
to  assist  them  to  change  their  position." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  soldier,  resuming  his  steady 
pace  in  front  of  the  door. 

Kado  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the  captives ;  there 
was  a  gleam  as  of  a  knife,  and  in  a  second  the  cords 
that  bound  the  prisoners  were  cut. 

"  If  you  value  your  lives,"  he  said,  "  do  not  move  a 
hair's  breadth." 

When  Kado  had  accomplished  this  deed  successfully, 
lie  stood  up  and  began  to  talk  to  the  prisoners  in  a  low 
monotonous  voice,  changing  his  tone  and  the  sense  of 
his  words,  according  as  the  sentinel  came  nearer  or 
passed  further  on. 

"You  have  only  one  half  hour;  the  King  is  a  good 
master!  In  ten  minutes,  when  the  storm  is  at  its 
height — you  will  serve  in  good  company — your  limbs 
will  be  very  numb.  Yes,  Fleur-de-Lis  promises  you 
each  an  officer's  commission.     I  leave  my  knife  here 


THE     MENDICANT.  21 1 

under  the  straw.  Take  it,  and  tear  away  the  thatched 
roof  just  where  the  trunk  of  the  oak  passes  through  it. 
The  cause  of  the  King  is  that  of  God,  and  will  surely 
triumph!  The  branches  of  the  oak  extend  over  the 
thicket;  these  are  unsafe.  No,  there  is  no  shame  in 
going  back  to  the  right  course — but  the  lowest  branch 
and  the  heaviest,  supports  the  trellis  covering  the  next 
path.  Follow  that  branch  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  then 
crawl  on  your  hands  and  knees  over  the  branches 
which  are  woven  together.  I  am  very  sorry.  It  is  a 
sad  end  for  men  like  yourselves.  When  you  reach  the 
end  of  the  trellis,  drop  to  the  ground.  The  lad  whose 
life  you  saved  will  be  waiting  for  you  there.  Farewell, 
then,  since  you  refuse  all  our  offers." 

"And  what  have  they  decided?"  asked  the  sentinel, 
coming  just  within  the  door. 

"  To  die,"  answered  Kado.  "  Let  them  alone — it  is 
no  use  to  urge  them  further.    Good  night,  comrade." 

"  It  is  such  a  deuced  rain  storm,"  replied  the  soldier, 
"  that  I  think  I  will  stay  under  this  shelter,  until  the 
hour  is  up." 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  said  Kado,  carelessly.  "  Only 
if  you  were  in  their  shoes,  I  think  you  would  like  to 
talk  to  your  friend,  without  a  stranger  hearing  evei-y 
word  you  say." 

The  soldier  yielded  to  this  objection  with  a  sulky  air 
and  went  out  with  the  old  Breton. 

As  soon  as  the  door  closed,  Bruiloux  uttered  a 
Stupendous  sigh,  echoed  by  Colibri. 


212  THE     MENDICANT. 

11  Well,  my  boy,"  said  the  old  Sergeant,  "  we  are  in 
luck  it  seems.     What  have  you  to  say?" 

"  Nothing,  Sergeant." 

"  There  is  an  old  saying,  Colibri,  that  every  bush,  no 
matter  how  small  it  is,  has  its  shadow.  Now,  who 
'would  ever  have  supposed  that  this  little  scamp,  with 
his  top,  would  have  protected  me  some  clay  with  his 
shadow?  me,  I  say — Bruidoux!  No  one  would  have 
believed  it,  Colibri !  " 

"But,  Sergeant,"  asked  Colibri,  anxiously,  uhave 
you  understood  one  word  of  those  involved  directions 
given  by  our  Chouan  friend?  " 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  I  have  understood  them  from  begin- 
ning to  end ;  and  I  propose  to  consecrate  the  moments 
which  our  benumbed  limbs  force  us  to  spend  in  this 
vile  place,  to  explaining  them  more  fully  to  you." 

While  Sergeant  Bruidoux  calmly  repeated  the  details 
of  their  plan  of  escape  to  his  meek  subordinate  — 
which  commended  itself  to  them  both  from  its  very 
audacity — the  lightning  became  incessant,  and  the 
storm  increased  to  absolute  fury ;  the  door  of  the  hut 
shook  in  the  wind,  and  the  water  poured  over  the  sill 
like  a  small  river. 

Suddenly  a  clap  of  thunder,  more  violent  than  any 
that  had  preceded  it,  was  heard,  and  the  old  oak  tree, 
around  which  the  hut  was  built,  trembled  to  its  roots. 

"  Now  is  the  time,  my  boy,"  said  Bruidoux,  starting 
to  his  feet,  and,  snatching  Kadc  s  knife,  he  reached  up 
and  tore  the  roof  away  from  the  tree.     Then,  sup- 


THE     MENDICANT.  2l3 

ported  by  Colibri,  to  whom  was  given,  for  the  moment, 
almost  superhuman  strength,  he  enlarged  the  opening 
with  his  hands.  The  wind  rushed  noisily  in  through 
this  breach,  and  the  lamp  was  extinguished. 

"  Courage,  my  child,"  said  Bruidoux.  "I  will  never 
desert  you." 

At  the  same  time  he  lifted  himself  upon  the  outside 
of  the  roof.  As  soon  as  he  was  fairly  established  there, 
he  embraced  the  oak  with  one  arm,  and  assisted  his 
companion  with  the  other. 

"We  have  the  tree,"  whispered  Bruidoux,  "but  I 
can't  find  the  branch.     Do  you  see  it?" 

Colibri  did  not  reply,  and  the  two  men,  bewildered 
by  the  tempest  and  blinded  by  the  lightning,  felt  with 
nervous  hands  for  the  rough  bark  of  the  oak. 

"Zounds!"  muttered  the  Sergeant,  "there  is  no 
more  of  a  branch  than  there  is  in  my  eye,  and  the  lamp 
will  tell  our  tale  only  too  soon !  " 

As  ho  spoke,  a  lurid  flash  showed  them  the  object  of 
which  they  were  in  search.  It  was  two  or  three  feet 
below  the  roof,  and  stretched  forth  almost  horizontally 
into  space. 

"  Follow  me,"  said  Bruidoux ;  "  I  shall  slide  along 
this  limb  as  if  I  were  on  horseback,  and  you  do  the 
same." 

As  the  Sergeant  spoke,  he  dropped  on  the  limb, 
which,  according  to  the  directions  of  Kado,  was  to 
serve  as  their  bridge.  The  branch  bent  under  them, 
but  as  every  twig  was  woven  in  with  others  up  to  the 
extremity  of  the  limb,  it  did  not  break. 


214  THE     MENDICANT. 

They  were  hard])-  well  started  than  they  heard  ths 
My,  "  To  arms  !  to  arms  !  "  behind  them. 

"  Now,  boy,  show  }rour  metal, "  murmured  Bruidoux 
{  M  Some  seconds  later,  the  two  fugitives  reached  the 
/rellis,  erected  like  a  dais  over  the  principal  avenue  of 
the  camp.  Suddenly  a  clamor  of  voices,  and  din  of 
irms  held  them  motionless.  A  crowd  of  men  bearing 
torches  passed  under  their  very  feet,  running  at  full 
ipeed.  As  soon  as  the  last  torch  had  disappeared,  our 
friends  resumed  their  perilous  journey.  Suddenly  a 
profound  sigh  escaped  from  Colibri's  lips.  The  Ser- 
geant turned. 

"  What  is  it,  my  child  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  My  foot  has  slipped  through  the  branches,  Sergeant, 
and  I  cannot  pull  my  leg  out." 

"Is  that  all?     Come,  now,  give  it  a  good  pull." 

"  Impossible,'  Sergeant.  I  cannot  go  on.  Look  out 
for  yourself,  and  leave  me,  for  I  do  nut  wish  to  be  the 
cause " 

"  Hush  ! .  Do  not  insult  your  superior,  if  you  please. 
Wait,  and  I  will  help  you." 

"All  is  lost,  Sergeant,"  said  Colibri,  in  a  hoarse 
voice.     "  Some  one  is  holding  my  leg  !  " 

Bruidoux  seized  the  young  man's  hand.  A  moment 
of  mortal  anguish  ensued,  and  then  a  childish  voice 
was  heard  whispering  softly: 

"  Is  that  you,  Monsieur  le  Sergeant?" 

"Thank  Heaven!  It  is  the  boy  with  the  top!" 
cried  Bruidcux,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  relief. 


THE     MENDICANT.  215 

*  Yes,  it  is  I,  my  love  ! "  he  continued.  "  Wait  a 
moment,  and  we  will  be  with  you  !  " 

The  old  Sergeant,  as  he  spoke,  was  busy  disengaging 
poor  Colibri's  leg.  When  he  had  succeeded  he  leaped 
lightly  to  the  ground,  and  pressed  Kado's  son  to  his 
heart. 

The  little  boy  led  the  fugitives  through  those  paths 
which  were  thickest-wooded,  and  conducted  them  in 
safety  to  the  edge  of  the  forest.  Bruidoux  parted  from 
him  with  affection,  and  with  the  promise  that  he  would 
return  his  top  on  the  first  opportunity. 


216  A    LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

WHILE  the  two  prisoners  were  carrying  out  their 
plans  of  escape,  with  a  courage  and  audacity 
that  merited  their  success,  a  young  officer  of  the  Royal 
and  Catholic  army,  was  moving  rapidly  along  one  of 
the  paths,  indifferent  to  the  water  pouring  from  the 
tops  ©f  the  trees,  and  to  the  crash  of  the  tempest. 
Occasionally,  he  shook  the  water  from  his  cloak  with  a 
distrait  air. 

The  sentinels,  whom  he  passed  at  intervals,  on  his 
saying  a  word  or  two  in  a  low  voice,  saluted  him 
hastily,  and  when  he  reached  a  post  of  some  importance, 
where  he  was  recognized  by  the  flickering  light  of  the 
bivouac  fire,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  respectful  crowd, 
whose  clamorous  welcome  mingled  with  the  rattle  of 
the  thunder. 

The  wives  and  children  of  the  proscribed  men, 
aroused  from  their  sleep,  came  out  hastily  from  their 
miserable  huts,  repeating,  with  enthusiasm,  the  name 
of  Fleur-de-Lis.  From  all  quarters  they  ran  to  greet 
him ;  some  tried  to  touch  his  clothing  or  his  hands ; 
his  presence  seemed  to  them  superior  to  that  of  a  mere 
mortal.  Similar  ovations  greeted  the  Royalist  General 
at  various  points  in  the  forest. 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  217 

We  ought  here  to  lift  a  portion  of  the  veil  of  mystery 
which  wrapped  this  young  he  id,  so  adored  by  these 
people.  This  personage  appeared  in  La  Vendee*  toward 
the  close  of  the  great  wars,  but  did  not  then  bear  the 
name  by  which  he  is  designated  by  ourselves 

The  course  of  events  having  thrown  him  in  Le  Bas 
Maine,  and  later  in  the  north  of  Brittany,  he  there 
reunited  the  scattered  elements  of  La  Chouannerie. 

The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  remove  the  Chouans 
from  their  defensive  position,  and  to  lead  them  upon  a 
battle-field.  Astonishing  good  fortune  followed  him 
wherever  he  went.  Not  once  did  he  fail.  Long  be- 
fore he  marched  at  their  head,  had  the  Breton  insurgents 
become  familiar  with  his  name,  and  submitted  to  its 
singular  nfluence. 

Not  only  were  his  military  qualities  boasted  of,  but 
his  marvellous  activity,  cool  intrepidity,  and  the  extra- 
ordinary combination  of  temerity  and  caution,  were 
the  theme  of  all  tongues.  An  air  of  mystery  hanging 
about  him  and  his  destiny,  completed  the  enchantment 
of  these  simple  and  ardent  natures.  His  personal 
beauty,  his  picturesque  language,  his  liberality,  which 
left  him  with  but  few  possessions,  other  than  his  war 
horse ;  all  the  graceful  and  charming  characteristics,  in 
short,  which  are  most  dazzling  to  the  young,  were 
united  in  him,  and  made  of  him  an  almost  supernatural 
figure. 

I  lis  soldiers  adored  him  for  his  courage;  he  charged 
the  <;neiny  with  his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  while 


218  A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

the  bullets  whistled  past  his  head,  sang  the  battle 
hymns,  which  he  had  himself  composed.  His  men 
•regarded  him  as  invulnerable. 

The  other  chiefs  and  the  noblesse,  less  carried  away 
by  all  these  things,  were,  hoAvever,  quite  ready  to  pay 
their  tribute  of  admiration  to  the  genius  shown  by  this 
celebrated  partisan,  for  the  especial  method  of  warfare 
in  which  they  were  engaged;  but  they  accorded  it  still 
more  to  the  prestige  of  an  illustrious  resemblance, 
imprinted  on  the  valiant  brow  of  this  stranger. 

This  resemblance  was  very  real.  Behind  the  clouds 
which  enveloped  the  origin  of  this  extraordinary  exis- 
tence, was  concealed  the  shame  of  a  woman,  and  the 
crime  of  a  king.  The  nobles  of  the  west  had,  in  some 
degree,  legitimatized,  by  their  respect,  the  titles  borne 
by  this  young  man,  for  they  felt  it  wiser  to  display  a 
purple  mantle  of  royalty,  to  these  unsophisticated 
peasants  and  soldiers,  and  thus  conceal  the  mortifying 
absence  of  those,  who  had  a  more  direct  right  to  such 
homage. 

Meanwhile,  the  address  of  the  young  chief  in  utili- 
zing all  such  circumstances  as  could  strengthen  his 
empire,  his  evident  thirst  for  power,  his  more  and  more 
marked  individuality,  began  to  disquiet  the  very  per- 
sons who  had  themselves  done  their  best  to  awaken  the 
worship  of  which  he  was  the  object. 

The  rumor  of  his  success,  the  e*clat  of  his  popularity, 
reached  the  ears  of  the  princely  emigres.  So  powerful 
a  seiviteur  could  not  be  other  than  displeasing  to  them. 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  211 

The  Comte  tie  Puisaye  wrote  a  letter  of  congratulation 
from  England,  which  strongly  marked  his  displeasure. 

It  was  about  this  time  mat  negotiations  for  peace 
wera  opened  with  the  Republic.  The  fortunate  adven- 
turer refused  to  participate  in  them,  but  the  intrigues 
carried  on  about  him,  left  him  isolated,  deserted,  and 
unable  to  prolong  his  resistance,  and  he  was  finally  com- 
pelled to  abandon  Brittany. 

A  fishing  boat  received  him  on  a  deserted  beach  a 
short  distance  from  Saint  Breune — a  small  band  of 
devoted  Chouans  witnessed  his  departure.  Before 
leaving  the  shore  he  broke  off  the  golden  Fleur-de-Lis 
that  surmounted  the  handle  of  his  sword,  and  gave  it 
to  these  faithful  friends.  This  relic  soon  became  the 
name  of  the  banished  and  popular  hero  in  their  narra- 
tions. In  more  than  one  parish,  the  priests,  in  deference 
to  an  enthusiasm  strengthened  by  these  souvenirs,  was 
in  the  habit  of  adding  to  the  prayers  for  the  King,  an 
especial  prayer  for  the  Fleur-de-Lis. 

Once  delivered  from  his  overshadowing  presence, 
even  his  secret  enemies  regretted  him.  When  again 
preparing  for  war,  they  found  the  old  Chouanniere  ready 
enough  for  action,  but  scattered  and  disorganized,  as 
in  the  first  days  of  their  rising.  No  one  among  the 
chiefs  was  strong  enough  to  bind  together  again  the 
formidable  sheaf  of  arrows  they  had  so  imprudently 
broken  in  the  hand  of  Fleur-de-Lis. 

The  young  chief  was  in  England ;  all  the  emigrds 
were  fating  him.     One  of  the  exiled  Princes,  who  was 


220        A    LETfEfc     OF    IMPOfcTAtfCE. 

also  there,  welcomed  him  warmly,  thereby  showing 
that  he  expected  further  services.  Fleur-de-Lis  even 
received  at  that  time,  it  was  said,  a  title  which 
recalled  the  theatre  of  his  first  deeds  of  arms — ^uie 
borrowed  from  the  legitimate  family  of  Louis  XI V. 
An  explanation  accompanied  this  flattering  allusion  to 
the  equivocal  rights  of  the  young  Due. 

Some  weeks  later,  the  English  Cabinet  decided  to 
throw  into  Brittany  a  certain  division  of  the  emigre's ; 
one  of  the  Princes,  the  uncle  of  the  youthful  King,  a 
captive  in  the  Temple,  was  to  command  this  corps.  It 
is  well  known  that  the  presence  of  this  person  had 
been  for  a  long  time  solicited  by  the  Vende'an  chiefs, 
and  my  readers  are  not  ignorant  of  the  discouragement 
and  the  bitterness,  awakened  and  often  expressed  by 
the  famous  supporters  of  the  Royalist  cause,  at  the 
eternal  postponement  of  their  rightful  hopes. 

The  expedition  was  ready;  it  was  necessary,  how- 
ever, to  sweep  from  Brittany  the  scattered  Republican 
forces,  and  thus  assure  safety  in  the  landing  of  troops 
from  the  fleet.  Fleur-de-Lis  seemed  the  best  person 
for  that  task,  and  accepted  it.  His  name  had  acquired 
in  his  absence  additional  fame,  and  in  two  days,  such 
was  its  charm,  every  hut  was  empty,  and  he  had  an 
army. 

The  official  investiture,  which,  vague  as  it  was,  he 
had  received,  lent  him,  in  the  eyes  of  the  other  chiefs, 
a  certain  superiority;  and  no  one  disputed  anything  he 
chose  to  do.     In  a  brief  campaign  he  accomplished,  as 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  221 

we  have  seen,  the  mission  with  which  he  was  entrusted, 
but  the  English  fleet  did  not  appear  at  the  appointed 
day.  New  instructions  were  sent  to  Fleur-de-Lis, 
which  lie  obeyed,  and  muditied  his  original  plans.  It 
was  then  that  he  abandoned  the  sea  coast.  This  delay, 
however,  which  was  not  without  a  certain  suggestion 
of  treason,  had  profoundly  wounded  the  impetuous 
spirit  of  the  young  General ;  he  saw  himself  sacrificed 
as  the  recompense  of  his  devotion.  His  hatred  of  the 
English,  always  strong,  now  became  more  violent.  He 
avowed  his  opposition  loudly,  to  any  measures  advanced 
or  protected  by  their  policy. 

More  than  one  indiscreet  expression  passed  his  lips 
and  aroused  the  old  distrust  in  those  about  him.  A 
number  of  the  chiefs  were  sincerely  attached  to  him, 
but  others  in  their  secret  hearts  yielded  to  his  yoke 
with  great  reluctance.  They  were  uneasy  at  the 
idolatry  shown  him  by  a  whole  province,  and  com- 
mented with  considerable  sharpness  on  words  he 
dropped,  indicative  of  that  fatalism,  common  to  favor- 
ites of  fortune  who  are  habituated  to  success;  for  as 
these  men  justly  thought,  this  fatalism  often  conceals 
the  most  ambitious  schemes. 

Our  readers  will  soon  see  how  well  founded  were 
all  these  jealous  apprehensions. 

Fleur-de-Lis,  on  reaching  the  encampment,  found  a 
large  body  of  cavalry  there  —  the  only  cavalry,  in  fact, 
in  the  Royalist  army.  It  was,  however,  most  insuffi- 
ciently equipped;  half  of  the  horsemen,  like  most  of 


222        A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

the  volunteers  in  the  forest,  wore  only  wooden  shoes, 
above  which  they  strapped  pieces  of  leather  in  lieu  of 
boots.  The  young  chief  took  a  horse,  and  rode  at  full 
gallop  toward  the  Chateau  de  Kergant. 

The  Forest  de  la  Nouee  had  served  as  an  asylum  to 
the  Marquis  and  his  family,  during  the  day  following 
the  surprise  of  the  chateau  by  the  detachment  com. 
manded  by  Francis.  The  Marquis,  wishing  to  avoid  as 
long  as  possible  for  his  family,  all  the  fatigues  and  pri- 
vations of  a  life  of  proscription,  determined  to  return 
with  them  to  the  hereditary  Manor.  Fleur-de-Lis 
promised  to  protect  them  through  the  medium  of  his 
spies,  from  the  possibility  of  any  further  surprise. 

At  the  chateau,  all  the  habits  of  the  daily  life  of  the 
family  had  been  resumed,  for  thus  they  hoped  to  delude 
themselves  into  the  feeling  of  their  former  days  of 
security,  but  this  surface  calm  deluded  no  one ;  cruel 
pre-occupation  was  revealed  in  the  words  and  even  in 
the  very  silence  of  each  individual. 

Bellah  had  fallen  into  a  condition  of  alarming  lassi- 
tude ;  Andred  herself  rarely  smiled.  On  the  evening 
to  which  the  progress  of  our  tale  has  now  brought  us, 
all  the  members  of  the  household  had  separated  as 
usual  toward  ten  o'clock.  Bellah  had  been  in  her 
chamber  some  ten  minutes,  and  was  standing  with  one 
hand  on  the  back  of  an  easy  chair,  with  her  head 
thrown  a  little  forward,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy; 
she  seemed  to  be  listening  with  melancholy  interest  to 
the  noise  of  the  storm  without,  and  to  the  sad  echoei 


A    LETTER     OP     IMPORTANCE.         22% 

that  filled  the  corridors  of  the  old  chateau.  The  beau- 
tiful face  of  the  young  girl  was  sadly  altered,  but  her 
pallor  and  the  shadow  under  her  eyes,  added  the 
one  charm  of  her  sex  in  which  she  had  been  lacking  — 
that  of  weakness.  With  a  start  she  shook  off  her 
melancholy,  and  going  to  a  small  table,  which  served 
as  a  stand  for  book-shelves  of  carved  ebony,  she 
took  out  a  book  bound  in  velvet,  on  the  cover  of  which 
was  a  cross ;  but  without  opening  it,  she  pushed  it 
gently  aside  again ;  then  shaking  her  head,  with  an 
expression  of  anguish,  she  seated  herself  and  began  to 
write. 

44  Herve*,  my  brother,  I  shall  never  see  you  again. 
Your  contempt,  unjust  as  it  is,  is  killing  me !  You 
would  hardly  know  me,  my  friend.  Those  about  me 
think  it  is  fatigue  and  anxiety.  I  let  them  think  as 
they  choose,  but  I  am  dying.  I  think  my  heart  is 
affected ;  sometimes  it  beats  so  quickly  that  I  cannot 
breathe,  and  then  it  stops  entirely,  and  I  think  all  is 
over.  This  terrible  storm  has  upset  me ;  it  seems  to 
me  that  each  gust  of  wind  is  tearing  me  up  by  the 
roots  like  some  frail  tree.  If  I  am  mistaken,  and  it 
be  God's  will  that  I  shall  continue  to  live,  these  lines 
will  never  reach  you. 

"  Herve\  my  whole  life  has  been  given  to  duty,  to 
fulfill  which,  I  have  voluntarily  sacrificed  myself,  but  I 
ask  that  my  grave,  at  least,  shall  belong  to  me,  and 
that  it  be  pure  in  the  eyes  of  all —  above  all,  in  yours ! 
When  I  am  no  more,  it  can  do  no  harm  to  any  one,  if 


224  A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

you  should  shed  a  tear  or  two,  and  this  thought  is  very 
dear  to  me. 

"  It  must  be  that  I  am  doing  quite  right  in  writing 
thus  to  you,  for  my  conscience  does  not  trouble  me,  and 
you  know,  Herve,  how  sensitive  my  conscience  was  — 
it  is  sensitive  still,  whatever  you  may  believe. 

"  When  my  own  lips  bore  witness  to  my  shame,  of 
course  you  were  right  in  believing  me,  and  yet  you 
were  too  credulous,  too  prompt  in  your  belief ! 

"  It  seems  almost  incredible  that  you,  almost  within 
this  dwelling,  which  was  our  mutual  home,  where  my 
nature  slowly  unfolded  before  your  eyes,  that  one  word 
I  say,  could  efface  all  these  dear  memories,  memories 
which  should  have  cried  out  in  my  favor.  Ah !  it 
seems  to  me  that  on  the  great  day  of  Judgment,  when 
the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  known,  that  were  I  to 
hear  from  your  own  lips  an  avowal  of  infamy  and  base- 
ness, that  I  should  wait — I  should  wait  for  the  voice  of 
God  Himself  before  I  could  believe  them.  And  you 
never  doubted,  never  hesitated !  A  single  word  had 
more  weight  with  you,  than  the  testimony  of  all  my  life, 
for  I  lied,  Herve' !  yes,  I  lied !  and  I  have  no  excuse  to 
make  for  the  lie,  Herve*,  none  whatever,  for  those  faults 
commanded  by  Duty  are,  or  should  be,  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  virtues. 

"I  must  explain  all  to  you,  since  you  no  longer 
understand  me.  I  have  always  been  faithful,  passion- 
ately faithful,  to  the  sentiments  and  the  ideas  with 
which  our  childhood  was  fed.     I  believe  in  the  King  as 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  $& 

f  believe  in  God.  This  double  faith  is  all  on  which  I 
rest,  for  I  see  in  the  Future  only  darkness  and  trouble^ 
through  which  it  seems  impossible  for  me  to  live, 
,  Indifference  is  a  word  whose  sense  I  never  grasped.  1 
thank  Heaven  for  having  preserved  my  faith  unshaken, 
for  to  my  mind  there  are  not  torments  comparable  to 
those  which  I  should  have  endured,  had  my  faith 
wavered.  A  lively  faith,  Hervd,  in  times  like  these, 
enables  a  weak  woman  to  fulfill  her  duties.  How 
many  times  I  have  envied  our  beloved  Andrei !  The 
goodness  of  God  has  measured  her  weakness  in  ap- 
pointing her  duties.  She  loves  you  —  she  is  happy, 
and  she  is  sleeping !  Alas !  Why  was  I  not  made  also 
for  the  serene  happiness  of  home,  for  the  simple  duties 
of  domestic  life  ? 

"  God  has  not  wished  it,  and  I  bow  to  His  decrees. 
It  depended  on  me  to  prevent  the  trouble  I  saw 
rising  between  you  and  this  young  man.  It  was  my 
duty  to  prevent  it  at  whatever  cost.  There  is  no  life 
more  precious  than  that  of  this  young  man,  to  all  who 
love  the  King.  The  King !  This  name,  Hervd,  is  one 
no  longer  dear  to  you,  and  you  can  with  difficulty 
comprehend  how  it  entailed  this  sacrifice  on  me. 
You  disdain  our  prejudices,  and  call  our  enthusiasm 
idolatry.  Herv^ !  the  noblest  souvenirs  of  our  country 
and  of  our  families — fidelity  to  the  altars  and  the 
tombs  of  our  fathers — all  that  is  illustrious  and  sweet- 
est in  the  Past — all  that  speaks  of  virtue  and  sacrifice 
to  a  Christian  spirit — of  glory  to  a  Frenchman  —  all  is 
15 


%26  A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

enclosed*  as  you  well  know,  in  that  mysterious  and 
sacred  circle,  the  Crown  of  Royalty. 

"  You  say  that  a  new  order  of  things  has  begun, 
when  all  these  matters  are  as  shadows.  If  this  be  so, 
then  I  am  not  fitted  for  it.  I  ought  to  die,  as  did  the 
Pagan  Virgin,  on  the  threshold  of  the  Temple,  where  I 
offered  up  my  last  prayer.  I  was  so  far  from  being 
guilty,  Herve,  that  I  did  not  at  first  understand,  of 
whom  you  were  speaking.  It  is  strange,  I  again  repeat, 
that  you  should  have  yielded  such  facile  belief!  I 
wished  to  save  the  life  of  this  young  man,  but  in  justi- 
fying myself,  I  must  not  allow  you  to  think  evil  of 
another.  Alix,  whom  you  know,  had  made  me  her 
confidante.  I  did  not  seek  this  mark  of  esteem,  but  it 
at  once  explained  your  mistake.  She  came  to  me  to 
entreat  me  to  speak  to  her  father,  in  favor  of  one  of 
our  young  officers,  whom  she  wished  to  marry.  She 
admitted  that  she  met  him  in  the  grove  that  fatal 
night,  and  that  she  feared  to  be  seen  there  by  her 
father.  The  man  she  loves,  is  known  by  a  name  that 
may  have  contributed  to  mislead  you.  He  is  called 
Fleur-de-Genet. 

"This  is  all,  I  believe,  that  I  wished  to  say  to  you, 
and  my  heart  is  easier. 

"  My  friend,  if  your  e}res  ever  rest  on  these  words,  it 
will  be  when  I  no  longer  breathe.  This  knowle<lo.> 
takes  from  me  much  of  my  timidity.  If  I  insist. 
Hervd,  that  you  shall  hold  me  hi  tender  remembrance, 
it  is  because  I  am  worthy  of  it.     I  have  struggled  long 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  227 

in  your  behalf.  God  has  made  us  masters  of  our  acts 
and  our  words,  but  not  of  our  hearts.  Can  it  be  that 
you  really  supposed  me  guilty?  I  had  resolved  to  be 
as  a  stranger  to  you  ever  more,  for  neither  passion  or 
pain,  as  I  prove  this  day,  could  ever  have  obtained  from 
me  a  resolution  contrary  to  the  law  of  my  conscience. 
Since  our  interview  among  the  Stones  of  the  Druids, 
you  have  had  every  reason  to  believe  that  I  was  noth- 
ing more,  could  be  nothing  more,  than  a  mere  souvenir 
to  you ;  but  to  profane  the  sealed  tomb  of  my  heart,  to 
give  myself  to  another,  to  lay  my  widowed  hand  in  that 
of  any  other  man " 

As  Bellah  wrote  these  last  words,  she  lifted  her 
swimming  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  at  the  sam-e  moment, 
the  door  opened  and  Fleur-de-Lis  entered.  Made- 
moiselle rose  with  a  start.  The  young  man  stood  still 
near  the  door,  in  a  most  respectful  attitude,  with  low- 
ered head. 

wt  Monsieur  le  Due,"  she  said,  with  somewhat  haughty 
gravity,  4*  my  father  is,  I  think,  still  in  the  salon" 

"  Excuse  me,  Mademoiselle,"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis, 
44  but  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  alone.  You  may  well 
think  that  no  ordinary  matter  could  have  induced 
me  to  take  a  step  which  should  offend  you.  I  need 
your  advice,  and  must  consult  you  without  delay." 

Mademoiselle  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  face  of  her  com- 
panion, but  could  detect  no  other  expression  than  that 
of  great  perplexity.  She  sank  into  her  chair  again, 
overcome  with  agitation. 


223         Jl    LETTER    OF    IMPORTANCE. 

u  What  is  it,  sir  ?"  she  asked. 

Fleur-de-Lis  hesitated  a  mom e  it  before  replying; 
then  going  nearer  to  the  young  girl  who  listened 
eagerly,  he  said : 

"  You,  at  least,  will  do  me  justice,  I  feel  sure  of  this. 
You  know  whether  I  gave  myself  up,  heart  and  soul, 
to  my  often  perilous  duties." 

"I  know,"  interrupted  Bellah,  "that  you  have  always 
been  worthy  of  the  blood  in  your  veins." 

"  But  a  man's  patience  and  his  self-abnegation  have 
their  limits,"  resumed  the  young  man.  "  Woe  be  unto 
those  who  change  the  devotion  of  faithful  hearts  into 
less  noble  qualities !  " 

"These  are  very  strange  words!  What  are  you 
thinking  of?" 

"  If  I  have  not  learned  to  be  treacherous,  Bellah,  it 
is  not  for  lack  of  teaching.  You  already  know  much, 
if  not  all  of  what  has  taken  place,  but  nothing  ought 
to  remain  obscure  to  you ;  I  had  been  charged  to  des- 
troy all,  and  everything,  which  could  in  any  way  prove 
an  obstacle  to  the  landing  of  those  whose  coming  had 
so  long  been  watched  for.  A  very  few  days  after  my 
arrival  my  task  was  fulfilled ;  the  sea  coast  was  free,  as 
indeed,  was  the  whole  country,  and  we  waited  for  our 
friends  and  allies ;  they  came  not,  but  left  us  face  to 
face  with  one  of  the  most  redoubtable  armies  —  with 
the  best  General — of  the  Republic." 

"  But  you  were  duly  informed,  you  received  constant 
orders  ?  " 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  %<& 

"  None  whatever,  until  three  days  had  elapsed.  I 
can  not  attempt  to  describe  to  you  the  intensity  of  my 
anguish,  during  those  long  days  of  uncertainty  and 
abandonment.  M37  anxieties,  it  is  true,  were  not  for 
myself,  but  for  those  brave  fellows  who  had  trusted  tc 
my  word,  and  whom  I  had  led  to  a  useless  butchery. 
The  order  finally  arrived ;  the  fleet  had  been  delayed 
for  reasons  which  were  not  explained  to  me.  They 
asked  for  a  week's  delay,  during  which  time  I  was  to 
preserve  all  our  advantages,  occupy  the  enemy  or  van- 
quish them.  You  know  the  resources  of  this  enemy, 
and  the  stuff  of  which  they  were  made.  Such  orders 
are  easy  to  give,  but  they  are  not  so  easy  to  obey. 
Whatever  was  the  result,  however,  they  were  delivered 
of  an  enemy,  or  of  a  serviteur  more  odious  still.  Bel- 
lah,  I  obeyed." 

"  God  and  your  honor  required  you  to  do  so," 
answered  the  girl,  with  dignity. 

"  That  is  precisely  the  point  on  which  I  do  not  feel 
certain,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis.  "  To  sacrifice  so  many  gen- 
erous fellows  —  I  speak  of  my  soldiers  —  for  a  selfish 
cause,  is  just  what  I  do  not  believe  that  either  religion 
or  honor  command.  Nevertheless,  I  obeyed.  I  threw 
myself  into  this  forest,  and  prepared  for  a  desperate 
combat ;  it  was  clear  to  me  that  it  would  be  our  tomb 
if  the  enemy  decided  to  attack  us,  I  also  felt  convinced 
that  few  of  them  would  go  out  alive. 

"  The  attack,  however,  did  not  take  place,  and  this 
w  the  present  state  of  things.     The  English  fleet  will 


230         A    LETTER     OF     nrPOKTANCE. 

reach  Queberon  to-morrow.  If  the  Republicans  are 
warned,  they  will  hurry  to  the  coast.  I  can  follow 
them  and  a  battle  will  take  place.  But  if  they  con- 
tinue in  ignorance  of  these  movements,  as  I  Lope, 
I  may  go  ahead  of  them,  and  during  the  coming  night 
reach  the  sea  coast  before  they  do. 

"  The  situation  is  a  critical  one,  indeed,"  said  Bel- 
lah,  much  moved  ;  "  why  not  consult  my  father  ?  " 

A  shadow  of  embarrassment  flitted  over  the  hand- 
some face  of  Fleur-de-Lis. 

"  The  point  upon  which  I  am  undecided,"  he 
answered  in  a  strange  tone,  "  is  whether  it  were  not 
wiser  for  me,  instead  of  adopting  either  of  the  courses 
I  have  laid  before  you,  to  leave  the  forest,  and  retreat 
toward  the  North,  with  all  my  Chouans. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  at  once  and  fully,  realized, 
that  such  a  step  would  crush,  at  a  single  blow,  all  the 
dearest  hopes  of  the  Royalists,  for  it  deprived  the 
expedition  of  the  emigre's  of  all  support,  and  aban- 
doned them  to  the  mercy  of  the  Republican  army. 
She  shivered  with  horror. 

"  Forgive  me,  Monsieur  le  Due,"  she  murmured,  "  1 
am  ready  to  give  you  all  my  attention,  but  my  head 
aches,  and  I  am  certain  that  I  have  not  understood 
you." 

"  And  I  am  quite  sure  you  have." 

Bellah  rose  slowly  from  her  seat  and  looked  at  the 
young  man  with  profound  astonishment  imprinted  on 
every  feature. 

"  It  is  not  possible,  she  murmured,  "  treachery  from 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  231 

you!  And  you  would  abandon  your  companions  in 
arms,  abandon  the  Prince,  a  son  of  France,  the  brother 
of  the  King?" 

"  The  Prince,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis,  his  lips  parting  with 
a  smile  of  bitter  disdain,  "the  Prince  is  not  coming!" 

"  It  is  false  !  cried  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  "  who 
dares  say  that?  Who  dares  say  that  a  Bourbon  will 
forfeit  his  word,  and  desert  his  flag  ?  " 

"He,  himself,  says  so,"  answered  Fleur-de-Lis, 
throwing  an  open  letter  on  the  table.  Bellah  glanced 
at  it  and  a  burning  blush  covered  her  face. 

If  history  has  not  flattered  the  chivalric  personage 
whose  conduct  at  this  time  wounded  so  many  loyal 
hearts,  it  is  natural  to  suppose  that  no  reproach  would 
have  seemed  to  him  so  keen,  as  this  blush  on  a  young 
girl's  brow. 

"England  must  have  detained  him,"  she  murmured. 

"  Detained  him  !  If  England  refused  her  vessels, 
was  there  no  fishing  boat  which  would  have  saved 
the  honor  of  Cassar  ?  At  all  events  he  is  not  coming. 
As  to  the  others,  I  can  warn  them  in  ample  season, 
they  will  not  land,  I  shall  betray  no  one  but  England, 
and  of  that  feat  I  shall  be  proud." 

"  But,"  exclaimed  Bellah,  with  enthusiastic  eneigy, 
"what  does  the  Man  matter?  Is  the  Crown  less 
pure,  the  cause  less  sacred  ?  And  you  abandon  it  ! 
But  what  are  you  going  to  do?  What  are  your  pro- 
jects? For  whom  will  you  fight?  In  whose  name  ? 
What  will  keep  your  soldiers  together?  Not  one  of 
our  brave  Bretons  will  follow  you," 


2S2  A     LETTER     OF     IMPO  R  TANCE. 

"All  will  folic w  me!"  answered  the  young  man. 
w  Do  you  think  the  sole  feeling  with  which  they 
take  up  arms,  is  their  regard  for  the  King  —  for  the 
King  who  is  the  ally  of  the  English — of  the  Saxons  as 
they  call  them — their  old  enemies  of  this  King  who  is 
always  absent — who  is  so  prodigal  of  their  blood,  so 
careful  of  his  own  ?  No,  Bellah,  they  will  be  quite 
willing  for  me  to  free  them  from  an  execrated  alliance, 
and  will  follow  me  in  the  name  of  their  religion,  their 
liberty,  and  their  menaced  country.  This  is  the  cause 
they  serve,  the  cause  to  which  it  is  glorious  to  devote 
one's  self.  Words  are  nothing !  You  follow  me,  Bel- 
lah, and  you  understand  me?" 

"  All  that  I  understand,"  said  Mademoiselle  de  Ker- 
gant,  as  she  fixed  her  cold  severe  eyes  on  those  of  the 
young  man,  "  all  that  I  understand  is,  that  you  propose 
to  serve  the  Revolution  in  your  own  fashion,  and  to 
your  own  profit.  You  are  powerful,  Fleur-de-Lis,  your 
success  and  your  influence  are  such  that  I  have  always 
felt  that  God  sent  you.  But  take  care  that  He  does 
not  withdraw  His  hand,  on  the  day  that  you  withdraw 
from  Him,  your  faith." 

"  God,"  cried  the  young  man,  "  may  have  preserved 
for  me  another  destiny  than  that  of  forever  serving 
ingrates." 

"But  if  your  fatal  power,  Fleur-de-Lis,  drags  down 
with  you  such  simple  natures  as  those  of  your  soldiers, 
do  you  think  that  you  can  also  carry  our  faithful 
noblesse  with  you  ?  " 

"  Some  of  them  I  know  influenced  by  their  narrow 

\ 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.  233 

prejudices,  will  abandon  me,  while  others,  I  am  certain, 
will  march  as  steadily  in  the  name  of  France,  as  in  the 
name  of  that  King,  who  teaches  them  the  lesson  of  for- 
getfulness.  I  am  not  the  only  one,  Bellah,  who  contem- 
plates this  movement.  I  will  give  you  the  proof  if  you 
desire,  then  you  may  be  quite  sure  that  I  have  not 
hazarded  such  a  design  without,  at  least,  some  appear- 
ance of  success." 

'•  What  design  and  what  success  ?  In  the  name  of 
Heaven,  answer  me,  for  I  am  bewildered  by  your 
words." 

"  Bellah !  I  am  called  to  other  scenes  of  honor, 
and  of  danger;  the  weight  of  my  name,  the  support 
of  my  soldiers,  are  invoked  to  resuscitate  the  Ven- 
d&in  wars.  Other  provinces  are  ready.  Federalism 
is  awake  throughout  France,  and  offers  us  her  hand. 
The  King  and  all  the  enemies  of  the  Republic  are  with 
us.  The  time  when  a  single  victory  was  sufficient  to 
open  the  roads  to  Paris  —to  stifle  this  Republic  stronger 
then,  than  to-day,  may  yet  return.  The  country  is 
not  like  Kings,  jealous  of  those  who  serve  it ;  its  grati- 
tude waits  on  its  liberators.  These  are  noble  oppor- 
tunities, and  a  nature  is  not  necessarily  treacherous, 
because  it  is  carried  away  by  them." 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  listened  with  breathless 
terror  to  this  language  uttered  by  a  man  whose  nature 
was  embittered  by  injustice,  and  exalted  by  ambition. 

u  I  understand,  now,"  she  said,  slowly ;  "  pride  is 
leading  you  astray.  Fleur-de-Lis,  you  are  lost,  I  fear, 
but  it  is  frightful  to  think  that  you  lose  us  at  the  same 


234         A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE. 

tune.  You  will  kill  our  cause  forever,  and  I  see  all 
this,"  she  added,  wringing  her  hands,  "  I  see  all  this 
and  I  can  do  nothing." 

"  You  can  do  everything,  Bellah,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis, 
in  a  low,  quick  voice,  laying  his  hand  on  the  young 
-girl's  arm. 

She  looked  at  him  without  a  word. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "  there  is  no  cause  to  which  I 
would  not  consecrate  myself  with  joy;  no  bitterness. 
and  no  affront  which  I  would  not  accept,  were  I  youi 
husband." 

"  My  husband  !  "  cried  Bellah,  starting  back  as  if  an 
invisible  gulf  yawned  before  her. 

"  Ever  since  I  knew  you,  Bellah,  glory  and  fortune 
have  been  precious  to  me,  only  because  they  brought 
me  nearer  to  you.  Your  love  was  dearer  to  me  than 
aught  else  in  the  world.  You  refused  it,  and  to 
forget  you  I  must  become  either  a  great  man,  or  a  great 
criminal.  The  passions  which  are  eating  my  heart  out 
are  terrible ;  you  cannot  comprehend  them,  but  you 
can  exorcise  them." 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant's  hands  were  clasped  upon 
her  breast  as  if  ready  to  lie  down  upon  her  tomb  ;  her 
pale  lips  parted :  "  the  King,"  she  murmured,  softly. 

Suddenly  an  expression  of  triumphant  suffering 
spread  over  her  face.  She  went  towards  Fleur-de-Lis, 
and  extending  her  hand,  sh3  said,  with  a  smile  of 
superhuman  sweetness : 

"  If  this  weak  hand  be  of  such  weight  in  the  scale 
uf  such  lofty  destinies,  I  shall  lay  it  there  with  pride." 


A    LETTER     OF    IMPORTAKOE,         235 

The  young  chief  seemed  confounded  and  almost 
embarrassed  by  a  reply  so  prompt,  and  by  such  a  facile 
victory. 

"Is  it  possible!"  he  murmured;  "I  was  mistaken 
then.  You  do  not  love  —  that  is  you  are  able  to  love 
me.  But,  perhaps  it  is  Duty  alone  which  influences 
you  —  you  are  sacrificing  yourself !  " 

"  Have  I  that  air,  then  ?  "  asked  Bellah,  with  the 
same  serene  tranquillity.  "  No,  do  not  imagine  it,  my 
nature  is  not  perhaps  capable  of  the  warmth  of  senti- 
ments for  which  you  might  look  in  another,  but  you 
must  be  satisfied  when  I  tell  you  that  I  will  be  yours. 
Time  will  do  the  rest." 

"Bellah!  can  I  believe  you?  This  unhoped  for 
happiness  —  oh!  what  a  burthen  you  lift  from  my 
heart  —  from  what  mortal  anguish  you  deliver  me ! 
How  can  I  ever  reward  you?  " 

"  By  serving  the  King,  Fleur-de-Lis !  " 

"  I  will  serve  him !  I  will  die  for  him  if  needs  be ! 
and  I  will  die  full  of  gratitude,  if  I  die  as  your  hus- 
band!  Bellah — it  is  cruel  to  importune  you  more 
now  —  forgive  me,  for  I  love  you  with  my  whole  soul. 
Your  promise  is  sincere,  is  it  not?  You  do  not  intend 
to  forfeit  your  word ;  the  mere  utterance  of  this  suspi- 
cion is  an  insult  to  you  !  But  do  you  not  rely  on  the 
chances  of  a  murderous  war  ?  " 

"  I  am  ready  to  yield  instantaneous  obedience  to  my 
father's  wishes,  and  to  your  own." 

"So  be  it!  If  your  father  grants  his  consent,  then 
the.  priest  who,  to-morrow  night,  will  bless  our  arms 


236        A    LETTER    OF     IMPOKTAKCK. 

before  our  departure,  will  bless  our  union.  May  1 
venture  to  hope  this,  Bellali  ?  " 

"  The  hour  is  very  near,"  said  Bellali,  faintly ;  "  but 
see  my  father;  I  will  offer  no  objection  to  anything 
you  may  choose  to  ask  of  him.  Go,  Fleur-de-Lis,  I  am 
not  well  to-night,  and  all  these  conflicting  emotions 
are  more  than  I  can  bear." 

The  young  man  knelt  before  her,  and  taking  the 
girl's  hand,  pressed  it  respectfully  to  his  lips ;  then 
after  a  profound  reverence  at  the  door,  he  went  out  of 
the  room. 

As  Fleur-de-Lis  reached  the  end  of  the  long  corridor 
that  ran  through  this  portion  of  the  chateau,  he  sud- 
denly turned,  thinking  he  heard  a  step  behind  him. 
He  listened  attentively,  but  all  was  quiet,  and  he  con- 
cluded that  he  had  been  deceived  by  the  echo  of  his 
own  foot-fall.  He  began  to  descend  the  stair-case,  but 
his  first  impression  had  been  correct :  he  was  followed. 

A  woman — an  avenging  shade — appeared  from  the 
darkness  and  glided  after  Fleur-de-Lis,  down  the  stair- 
case which  led  to  the  grand  hall  of  the  chateau.  While 
he  entered  the  salon  to  find  the  Marquis,  she  gained 
the  court-yard,  and  disappeared  in  the  obscurity  of  the 
avenue.  Only  a  few  brief  moments  had  elapsed,  when 
a  long,  piercing  scream,  coming,  apparently,  from 
Bellah's  chamber,  suddenly  awakened  Andree",  whose 
room  was  separated  from  that  of  her  adopted  sister 
merely  by  the  thickness  of  a  wall ;  she  started  up  and 
rushed  in,  only  to  find  Bellah,  cold  and  unconscious, 
lying  on  the  floor.     The  room  was  soon  crowded  wit** 


A     LETTER     OF     IMPORTANCE.         237 


all  the  people  in  the  chateau,  while  Monsieur  de  Ker- 
gant,  aided  by  the  Canoness,  endeavored  to  recall  his 
daughter  to  life,  Andree"  caught  sight  of  the  letter  on 
tfie  table,  which  Fleur-de-Lis  had  interrupted.  She 
,vad  several  lines,  anxious  to  discover,  if  possible,  the 
WVUng  of  the  sudden  illness  which  had  struck  her 
i-ltv  lister  down ;  then  she  quickly  folded  the  letter 
and  vveealed  it  in  her  bosom. 

Th.a>  wine  night,  a  young  woman,  mounted  on  a 
horse  &r  bathed  in  sweat,  presented  herself  at  the 
advance  poeto  of  the  Republican  army,  and  asked  to  be 
conducted  i;\H  the  presence  of  the  General-in-Chief. 
The  staff  officer  i:ad  all,  the  previous  evening,  removed 
their  quarters  tc  +h?>  soall  town  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  three  leagues  ftfua  Kergant. 

The  General,  at  t>e  fret  words  uttered  by  the 
young  woman,  sent  for  Cojni^andant  Pelven.  After  a 
conference  of  a  half  hour,  +Lq  mysterious  Amazon 
returned  by  the  same  road  she  ht>c  o^ne. 

The  first  gleam  of  dawn  vt*i9  apparent  on  the 
horizon,  and  Pelven  was  still  shut  up  wHh  the  General- 
in-Chief,  when  a  peasant,  who  was  half  6i  ;diot,  but 
who  had  already  served  more  than  once  ft)  an  inter- 
mediary between  the  young  Commandant  and  Ids  sister, 
made  his  appearance,  and  asked  to  see  Herve\  to  whom 
the  peasant  gave  an  envelope  sealed  with  extreme 
care. 

This  envelope  contained  two  lines  from  Andree*,  and 
Bellah's  unfinished  letter. 


238  ALIX. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

ALU  . 

MONSIEUR  DE  KERGANT  was  one  of  those  men, 
worthy  of  all  respect,  whose  lives  are  governed  by 
natural  and  healthy  sentiments.  Their  consciences 
have  no  dark  shadows ;  good  sense  and  morality  afford 
a  steady  light  which  no  worldly  wisdom  can  extin- 
guish. Such  natures  are  stigmatized  as  narrow,  but 
their  private  lives  are  always  irreproachable.  Their 
political  lives,  especially  at  these  critical  epochs,  when 
the  human  mind  must  arrive  at  sudden  decisions,  and 
make  abrupt  changes,  may  be  subject  to  error,  but 
never  to  shame.  Even  those  who  disdain  such  charac- 
ters seek  their  association,  because  they  inspire  confi- 
dence, and  in  their  presence,  one  can  lift  one's  social 
mask,  and  breathe  freely.  These  natures  are  as 
transparent  as  they  are  solid,  but  can  be  readily 
deceived.  Fleur-de-Lis,  in  enveloping  his  delicate 
confidence  with  intricate  phrases,  had  no  difficulty  in 
winning  the  pardon  of  the  loyal  old  Marquis  for  his 
audacity. 

Monsieur  de  Kergant  adored  his  daughter,  but  un- 
derstood no  more  than  would  a  child,  anything  of  tlw 
complicated  enigmas  of  passion.  He  had  never  sus- 
pected that  the  silent  indifference  with  which  Belwh 


A  L  T  X  .  239 

regarded  the  conduct  of  her  adopted  brother  could 
conceal  a  tender  recollection.  Other  appearances, 
moreover,  had  aided  his  mistake.  His  paternal  solici 
tude  had  first  been  excited,  by  finding  in  the  letters 
written  by "  his  daughter  from  England,  enthusiastic 
expressions  of  admiration  for  the  brilliant  Chief  of 
the  Bretonne  Chouannerie.  He  had  since  read  the 
same  sentiment  in  Bellah's  eyes  in  the  presence  of  this 
you^g  man,  who  also  perceived  these  ingenuous  demon- 
strations, but  was  by  no  means  gratified,  since  his  clear 
vision  discerned  the  true  nature  of  the  influence  he 
exercised  over  the  pious  Royalist.  He  knew  that  the 
preference  of  a  woman  is  always  veiled  in  mystery,  and 
that  a  virgin  struck  to  the  heart,  draws  her  veil  over 
her  wound ;  but  these  refinements  were  little  under- 
stood by  Monsieur  de  Kergant,  who  entertained  not 
the  smallest  doubt,  that  his  daughter's  heart  had  been 
carried  away  by  the  beauty,  the  courage,  and  the  charm 
of  Fleur-de-Lis. 

In  his  deep  affection  for  his  only  child,  the  Marquis 
did  his  best  to  believe  that  the  alliance  in  which  he 
supposed  his  daughter's  happiness  to  be  involved,  was 
all  that  was  desirable.  In  this  attempt  he  met  with 
more  or  less  success,  and  he  himself  gladly  submitted 
to  the  _ascendency  of  the  young  chief;  continually 
defending  him  most  energetically  against  the  re- 
proaches and  suspicions  of  his  rivals,  and  in  this  way 
had  begun  to  regard  him  already  as  his  son. 

The   stain   of    his   birth,  had,   in   the   eyes   of    the 


240  ALIX. 

•Marquis,  been  obliterated  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  ser- 
vices he  had  rendered,  aided  by  the  evidences  of  dis- 
tinguished consideration. 

If  it  were  a  sacrifice  to  the  old  gentleman  to 
obliterate  the  name  of  an  ancient  family  by  the  over- 
shadowing but  transitory  fame  of  Fleur-de- Lis,  he 
found  pleasure  in  it,  and  a  new  source  of  devotion.  He 
taw  a  new  security  given  to  a  sacred  cause ;  a  new  bond 
which  should  stifle  all  forebodings,  and  bring  the 
noblesse  once  more  around  the  popular  hero. 

Such  were  the  secret  impressions  of  Monsieur  de 
Kergant,  consequently  the  declaration  made  to  him  by 
Fleur-de-Lis,  of  Bellah's  consent,  was  welcomed  with 
the  utmost  kindness — almost,  indeed,  with  joy.  It 
relieved  him  of  the  doubts  weighing  so  heavily  upon 
him ;  it  gave  him  a  plausible  explanation  of  the  sadness 
which  had  overwhelmed  his  beloved  daughter  for  so 
long,  and  at  the  same  time  indicated  a  remedy.  The 
nervous  attack  so  suddenly  prostrating  Bellah,  only 
confirmed  the  Marquis  in  his  mistake,  and  removed  any 
lingering  objection.  Sitting  by  the  bedside  of  his 
daughter,  he  accepted  her  silent  despair  as  an  indication 
of  excessive  and  girlish  timidity,  and  looked  upon 
her  tears  as  those  of  happiness,  when  in  reality  they 
were  bitter  enough,  and  caused  to  flow,  by  his  unwit- 
tingly cruel  consolations. 

Monsieur  de  Kergant  busied  himself  that  very  night 
in  removing  those  obstacles,  which  religion  might 
oppose  to  a  marriage  so  prompt.    A  dispensation  would 


A  L I  X .  241 

be  easily  obtained.  Many  proscribed  priests  had  taken 
refuge  among  the  victorious  bands  of  Fleur-de-Lis : 
one  of  them  occupied  a  distinguished  and  elevated 
position  in  the  church.  It  was  he  who,  on  the  depart- 
ure of  the  Royalist  army,  was  to  celebrate  in  the 
chapel  at  Kergant,  a  solemn  mass  for  the  success  of  the 
expedition.  He  consented  to  bless,  at  the  same  hour, 
the  marriage  of  the  young  General,  and  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Kergant.  , 

Bellah  was  told  this  early  in  the  morning,  when  she 
awoke  from  the  profound  sleep  of  nervous  exhaustion 
following  her  attack  of  the  night.  She  rose,  knelt  in 
prayer,  and  then  went  out  into  the  park,  where  she  took 
a  long  and  solitary  walk. 

She  was  surprised  at  her  owe  physical  strength,  but 
her  brain  was  still  confused  and  her  heart  full  of 
tumultuous  and  contradictory  thoughts.  Suddenly  she 
remembered  the  letter  she  had  begun,  and  hurried  back 
to  her  room. 

Our  readers  know  how  this  letter  had  disappeared. 
Bellah  called  Andree*,  and  asked  if  she  had  seen  it,  but 
Andree*  declared  that  she  had  not,  and  asked,  with 
some  little  sharpness  of  tone,  what  letter  she  meant. 

Bellah  dared  say  no  more. 

Mademoiselle  de  Pelven,  with  the  rest  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  chateau,  had  been  informed  of  the  ap- 
proaching marriage.  After  what  she  had  read — written 
by  the  hand  of  her  friend — Andree  was  certain  that 
Bellah  was  acting  in  obedience  to  her  austere  convic- 
16 


24,2  ALIX. 

tion  of  duty.  She  felt  the  deepest  compassion  and 
respect  for  her  adopted  sister,  but  to  allow  her  to  per- 
ceive these  sentiments  was  to  acknowledge  her  own 
perfidy.  It  was,  therefore,  for  this  reason,  that  Andred, 
all  that  day,  adopted  the  role  of  an  offended  friend. 

It  is  not  true,  that  to  souls  deeply  tried  an  end  comes 
to  their  griefs,  and  that  they  become  hardened  and 
indifferent.  No!  as  long  as  life  is  left,  so  is  the  capacity 
for  suffering. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  realized  this,  when  she 
found  that  some  one,  a  servant  possibly,  had  stolen  her 
letter,  and  was  in  possession  of  her  most  secret 
thoughts — her  only  love  letter — her  will  and  testament. 
If  some  more  responsible  person  were  in  possession  of 
this  letter,  Bellah  foresaw  only  new  complications.  She 
feared  that  she  would  not  be  allowed  to  accomplish  her 
sacrifice,  and  that  the  despair  of  her  fiance*,  would  drive 
him  to  some  desperate  step.  She  passed  the  early  part 
of  the  day,  a  prey  to  these  anxieties ;  then,  as  nothing 
occurred  to  confirm  them,  she  ended  by  persuading  her- 
self that  her  letter  had  simply  been  lost  in  the  confusion 
incident  to  her  sudden  illness,  or  that  the  Canon  ess 
had  it  in  her  possession,  and  judged  it  expedient  to 
keep  the  secret. 

Fleur-de-Lis  appeared  for  a  moment  at  the  chateau 
in  the  morning,  then  returned  to  the  forest  camp, 
where  the  preparations  for  the  movement  of  the  army 
detained  him  until  night.  Monsieur  de  Kergant  was 
to  accompany  the  expedition.    He  went  to  his  daughters 


ALIX.  243 

and  his  sister  at  the  chateau,  under  the  care  and 
watchful  supervision  of  Kado,  who,  under  any  other 
circumstances,  would  have  been  heart-broken  at  being 
separated  from  his  master  in  such  perilous  times ;  but 
all  Kado's  scruples  yielded  before  the  anxiety  he  felt, 
in  regard  to  his  daughter's  health. 

Alix,  in  fact,  had  strangely  altered ;  all  the  youthful 
gayety  and  energy  which  were  the  marked  characteris- 
tics of  her  beauty  had  vanished.  Like  Bellah,  she 
looked  faded  and  worn.  On  the  morning  of  which  we 
write,  she  was  too  ill  to  rise  from  her  bed,  and  Bellah 
went  to  see  her  in  her  room. 

Notwithstanding  the  marked  difference  of  position 
between  these  two  young  girls,  the  associations  of  their 
childhood,  the  privations  and  anxieties  of  the  disas- 
trous days  in  which  they  lived — exile  and  dangers 
shared  in  common,  had  drawn  them  very  closely 
together.  In  Bellah's  enthusiastic  nature,  this  affection 
was  augmented  by  the  admiration  with  which  the 
poetic  beauty  of  Alix  inspired  her.  She  insisted  that 
Alix  was  a  reproduction  of  the  fabulous  queens  of  the 
Americaine  legends,  and,  consequently,  bent  all  her 
energies  in  the  most  delicate  manner,  to  soothe  the 
tenacious  pride  of  the  young  Bretonne,  and  to  remove 
from  her  life  any  suggestion  of  servitude. 

Alix,  on  her  side,  feeling  probably,  all  the  more 
deeply,  because  of  her  reticence  of  expression,  had 
allowed  her  gratitude  and  affection  toward  the  noble 
companion  of  her  infancy,  to  increase  until  it  amounted 
almost  lo  fanaticism. 


244  ALIX. 

On  seeing  Mademoiselle  de  K«  :gant  enter,  Alix  haft 
lifted  herself  with  evident  pain  from  her  bed  where  she 
was  lying;  a  faint  smile  passed  over  her  face,  the  pallor 
of  which  was  almost  ghastly.  "  Good  Heavens !  "  cried 
Bellah,  as  she  took  the  girl's  burning  hand,  "  are  you  so 
very  ill,  then?" 

u  Yes,  Mademoiselle  ;  very  ill,"  said  Alix. 

"And  I,  perhaps,  am  the  cause!  I  have  not  yet 
spoken  to  your  father  for  your  fiance*.  Forgive  me,  I 
have  been  so  much  harrassed.  But,  after  all,  you  begged 
me  to  wait  a  few  days.  I  will  speak  to  him,  however, 
at  once,  and  will  try  to  obtain  permission  for  Fleur- 
de-Genet  to  remain  here,  if  that  is  what  troubles  you, 
and  makes  you  ill." 

"No,  no!"  answered  the  girl,  hastily;  "my  father 
would  never  forgive  him  were  he  to  fail  to  go.  Besides, 
it  is  not  that — I  am  ill.  And  you  are  to  be  married, 
Mademoiselle  ?  " 

"Yes;  to-night." 

"  And  jovl  love  him  ?  "  asked  Alix,  after  a  pause. 

"Yes,  I  love  him." 

The  sick  girl's  eyes,  brighter  with  fever,  darkened 
with  a  sombre  light,  softening  as  she  met  Bellah'g 
tender  gaze. 

Stretching  out  her  arms,  she  drew  Mademoiselle  de 
Kergant  toward  her,  and  embraced  her  violently;  then 
pushing  her  away  again,  she  burst  into  a  violent  passion 
of  tears. 

Bellah  made  no  resistance  —  her  sympathy  was  ** 


A 1 1  X .  245 

intense  that  tears  stood  in  her  own  eyes.  Seated  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed,  the  two  girls  wept  together. 
Alix,  with  trembling  hand,  dried  the  tears  on  the 
cheeks  of  her  loved  rival,  with  her  own  lustrous  curls. 

Kado  came  in  and  interrupted  this  silent  interchange 
of  hopes  and  fears,  and  Bellah  pressed  her  friend's  lips 
and  left  the  room,  saying  as  she  went,  a  kind  word  or 
two  to  her  old  servitor. 

Monsieur  de  Kergant,  summoned  by  his  military 
duties,  had  passed  the  afternoon  in  the  forest,  in  con- 
ference with  the  other  chiefs.  As  the  first  evening 
shadows  crept  over  the  fields,  he  returned  to  the 
chateau. 

All  favored  the  plans  of  Fleur-de-Lis.  The  spies, 
who  kept  up  between  the  forest,  and  the  Republican 
line,  a  species  of  incessant  telegraphic  communication, 
had  seen  the  bivouac  fires  of  the  enemy,  and  had  heard 
the  signal  given  for  retreat.  The  army  of  the  Blues 
preserved  its  defensive  attitude,  and  slumbered  without 
suspicion,  leaving  on  the  field  force  for  the  plans  formed 
for  the  night :  the  Royalist  forces,  leaving  the  forest  on 
the  western  side,  in  order  tc  reach  the  coast,  and  receive 
the  emigre's,  who  were  to  land  the  next  day  from  the 
English  fleet. 

The  success  of  this  movement  would  determine  the 
cause  of  the  King  throughout  the  West  of  France. 
Such  at  least  was  the  hope  of  Monsieur  de  Kergant. 

Leaning  on  the  balcony  of  an  open  window,  the  old 
gentleman  spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  the  happy  Future, 


m  ALtX. 

bo  which  he  looked  forward ;  all  the  family,  with  tha 
addition  of  several  friends,  were  assembled  in  the  sal8n, 
and  listened  in  attentive  silence.  Bellah,  at  her  father's 
gide,  looked  out  on  the  starry  darkness.  Suddenly  she 
started,  and  laying  her  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  Mar- 
quis, she  said :  "  Hark  !  " 

Every  one  in  the  salon  hurried  toward  her,  and 
listened  attentively.  Amid  the  calmness  of  the  night 
an  ever-growing  murmur  reached  their  ears  —  a  mur- 
mur like  the  distant  sound  of  the  sea,  rolling  up  the 
beach. 

It  was  the  Chouan  army  approaching.  A  few  mo- 
ments later,  Fleur-de-Lis,  followed  by  a  group  of  his 
officers,  galloped  into  the  court-yard. 

When  close  upon  Kergant,  the  Royalists  divided  into 
two  columns,  which  continued  to  march  in  parallel 
lines,  a  short  distance  apart.  Thus  one  division  fol- 
lowed a  road  that  ran  back  of  the  park,  and  the 
meadows,  and  the  other,  passed  directly  in  front  of  the 
chateau. 

All  the  authority  of  Fleur-de-Lis  was  needed  to 
discipline  this  tumultuous  horde.  The  women,  chil- 
dren and  old  people  —  all,  in  short,  who  could  not 
fight  —  Lad  been  scattered  through  the  neighboring 
villages.  A  dark  and  compact  mass  filed  for  three 
hours  past  the  chateau,  without  disorder  and  without 
other  noise  than  that  inseparable  from  the  tumult  of  a 
great  multitude. 

At  intervals  the  glasses  trembled  in  their  leaden  set- 


ALIX.  247 

tings,  when  the  heavy  wheels  of  the  caissons  rolled 
past;  and  occasionally  the  men,  recognizing  Fleur-de- 
Lis  in  the  luminous  frame  of  one  of  the  windows  of 
the  chateau,  waved  their  hats  in  the  air.  The  silent 
greetings  had  a  most  singular  effect.  The  young  Gen- 
eral, with  his  little  corps  of  officers  especially  attached 
to  his  person,  was  to  rejoin  these  columns  immediately 
after  the  celebration  of  his  marriage. 

It  was  now  eleven  o'clock.  Mademoiselle  de  Ker- 
gant,  who  immediately  on  the  arrival  of  the  young 
chief  had  disappeared  from  the  salon,  now  re-entered 
on  her  father's  arm.  She  was  dressed  with  severe  sim- 
plicity in  white,  but  her  toilette  was  characterized  with 
all  that  care  which  a  beautiful  woman  rarely  forgets. 
They  all  passed  into  the  next  salon,  where  supper  was 
served.  The  white  dresses  of  the  women,  the  numer- 
ous lights,  the  festive  air,  which  the  Canoness  had  done 
her  best  to  give  to  this  wedding  supper,  were,  one  and 
all  a  melancholy  failure ;  nothing  could  efface  the 
impression  of  approaching  danger,  and  impending 
separation. 

Andrei,  pale  and  silent,  trembled  at  times  from  head 
to  foot.  Bellah  preserved  her  habitual  dignity,  but 
her  extreme  pallor  and  unsteady  eyes,  as  well  as  the 
light  frown  contracting  her  regular  brows,  betrayed 
the  struggle  going  on  within.  Fleur-de-Lis  alone 
appeared  to  be  unmoved  by  any  sinister  apprehensions, 
and  abandoned  himself  entirely  to  his  triumphant  love. 
His  radiant  brow    his  animated  words,   by  degrees 


248  ALIX. 

dissipated  the  constraint,  reawakened  hope,  and  im« 
parted  courage  to  the  anxious  souls  about  him. 

Suddenly,  however,  a  cloud  passed  over  the  face  of 
the  young  chief,  and  a  phrase  he  had  begun,  remained 
unfinished.  The  door  had  opened;  Alix  had  come 
in.  She  slowly  and  noiselessly  glided  to  the  table. 
Monsieur  de  Kergant  hurried  toward  her,  reproaching 
her  affectionately  for  her  imprudence.  Alix  answered 
faintly  that  she  was  better,  and  that  she  had  husbanded 
all  her  strength  that  day  that  she  might  be  present  at 
the  marriage  of  her  young  mistress. 

Monsieur  de  Kergant,  touched  by  this  mark  of 
affection,  placed  the  daughter  of  old  Kado,  by  Andrew's 
side,  but  the  girl's  agitated  face,  her  black  dress, 
unsteady  step,  as  well  as  her  unexpected  presence, 
depressed  every  heart  as  an  augury  of  evil. 

Fleur-de-Lis  was  evidently  disturbed;  his  words 
became  confused,  and  noticing  the  surprise  of  those 
about  him,  he  colored,  and  relapsed  into  silence. 

All  conversation  came  to  an  end,  and  the  supper 
ended  in  icy  silence,  when  the  chapel  clock  struck 
midnight,  the  hour  appointed  for  the  priest  to  be  at 
the  altar,  where  he  awaited  the  bridal  pair.  The 
chapel  at  Kergant,  was  of  the  simplest  Gothic  archi- 
tecture, and  stood  on  the  right  of  the  chateau,  on 
a  slight  hill  that  partially  overlooked  the  courtyard. 
This  hill,  which  served  as  base  to  the  tiny  edifice,  was 
almost  circular;  on  the  side  overlooking  the  country,  it 
was  protected  by  rocks  sloping  off  into  a  ravine,  which 


A  L  I  X  .  249 

seemed  to  continue  the  lower  walls  of  the  chapeL 
Toward  the  court  it  was  terraced  down  in  a  series  of 
green  slopes.  A  flight  of  some  ten  or  twelve  ste)>s 
gave  access  from  the  court-yard  to  the  lawn,  extending 
in  front  of  the  porch.  Between  this  hill  and  the 
manor  moat,  opened  a  wide  space  communicating  with 
the  country,  which  had  served  as  an  approach  to  the 
Royalist  troops.  A  well  cultivated  farm  lay  back  of 
the  hill  on  the  left.  All  the  other  sides  of  the  long 
square  forming  the  court  of  the  chateau,  were  shut  in 
by  stables  and  outbuildings. 

The  movement  and  the  tumult  of  the  multitude 
moving  past  had  ceased ;  three  hundred  men  remained 
behind  as  a  guard  to  the  chief.  Half  of  this  number 
were  distributed  through  the  avenue  at  very  small 
distances  apart;  the  rest  were  drawn  up  in  a  motion- 
less semi-circle  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  leading  to  the 
chapel. 

In  the  soft  light  of  the  stars,  the  uniforms  of  the 
Chasseurs  du  Roi  could  just  be  distinguished.  They 
opened  their  ranks  before  the  silent  cortege  which  came 
from  the  chateau,  receiving  them  with  a  military 
salute. 

A  few  moments  later,  when  the  tinkle  of  the  sacred 
bell  announced  the  commencement  of  the  ceremony, 
the  soldiers  dropped  upon  their  knees,  with  uncovered 
heads,  their  hands  clasped  as  if  in  prayer,  while  their 
arms  lay  on  the  ground  at  their  sides. 

A   few  scattered    candles,   faintly   and   indistinctly 


?30  ALIX. 

lighted  die  interior  of  the  chapel,  leaving  a  large  portion 
of  the  persons  present  in  almost  total  obscurity.  Before 
the  chancel  rail  knelt  Bellah  and  Fleur-de-Lis.  The 
priest,  an  old  man  with  white  hair,  extended  his  hand, 
on  which  glittered  the  Episcopal  ring,  over  the  heads 
of  the  fiancee's.  The  Marquis  de  Kergant  was  a  little 
Lehind  his  daughter;  his  sister,  the  Canoness,  at  his 
side.  Andrei  held  in  her  hand  the  nuptial  canopy, 
impatiently  crushing  it,  while  an  extraordinary  expres- 
sion of  impatience  and  anxiety,  marred  the  sweetness 
nf  her  infantine  face. 

A  little  further  off,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Kado, 
stood  Alix ;  her  eyes  were  fixed,  and  every  feature 
rigid;  she  looked  as  if  listening  to  some  strange  noise. 
The  group  of  Royalist  officers,  and  the  servants  of  the 
household,  crowded  the  dark  nave  of  the  small  church. 

The  moment  for  the  irrevocable  union  of  the  bridal 
pair  had  arrived.  The  priest  had  addressed  to  them 
the  sacramental  questions.  Bellah  lifted  her  brow, 
paler  than  her  white  veil,  and  extended  her  hand  for 
the  ring  which  was  to  chain  her  whole  life;  but  the 
young  General  had  dropped  the  symbolical  ring  on  the 
steps  of  the  altar ;  as  he  lifted  his  head  he  heard  his 
name  in  a  cry  of  lamentable  anguish  coming  from 
without.  He  started  up  and  held  his  breath,  as  did 
every  one  else  in  the  chapel.  On  every  face  was  the 
same  expression  of  anxious  expectation. 

After  a  brief  interval  the  same  plaintive  voice 
lepeated  the  name  of  Fleur-de-Lis ;  then  the  sound  <;/ 


ALIX.  m 

a  fast  galloping  horse  was  recognized  The  young 
man  rushed  out  of  the  chapel,  followed  by  the  crowd 
of  spectators.  With  one  leap,  he  crossed  the  space 
separating  the  porch  from  the  steps.  A  horse  bathed 
in  sweat  was  panting  at  the  foot  of  the  steps;  the 
soldiers  were  assisting  the  rider,  who  moved  with  diffi- 
culty, to  dismount.  His  brow,  his  breast,  were  stained 
with  blood.  Some  one  said  that  Fleur-de-Lis  was 
there  ;  he  turned  to  him,  gasped,  uttered  the  one  word, 
"  treachery,"  and  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  the  chief. 

At  the  same  moment,  as  if  to  confirm  the  word 
of  this  poor  fellow,  a  loud  report  was  heard  at  a  dis- 
tance. Fleur-de-Lis  lifted  his  arm  to  impose  silence. 
Several  soldiers  threw  themselves  on  the  ground,  and 
laid  their  ears  to  the  earth  to  listen. 

The  same  noise,  like  the  echo  of  a  subterranean 
storm,  was  heard  again  and  again. 

uThat  is  cannon,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis  —  "the  Army  is 
attacked.     To  horse  !  " 

While  the  horses  were  being  brought  out  with  all 
possible  speed,  the  priest  leaned  over  the  horseman 
and  vainly  sought  for  some  indications  of  life.  The 
soldiers,  plunged  into  a  sombre  stupor,  surrounded  this 
group.  The  inhabitants  of  the  chateau  crowded  near ; 
some  of  the  women  wept  aloud;  at  each  report  brought 
on  the  night  breeze,  a  shudder  ran  through  the  crowd. 

"  My  children,"  said  Fleur-de-Lis,  in  a  steady  voice, 
"  we  all  hear  the  cannon  of  the  Blues,  but  we  hear  our 
own  also.     Our  brothers  call  us.     In  less  than  a  half 


CM  ALIX. 

hour  we  shall  be  at  their  side.  In  the  name  of  God 
and  the  King,  let  us  march!  The  roads  are  free  — " 
Fleur-de-Lis  was  interrupted  by  an  uproar  that  seemed 
to  run  along  the  avenue ;  the  cry  of,  "  To  arms  !  The 
Blues!'  was  repeated  by  all  the  sentinels;  then  came 
the  noise  of  a  fusillade,  quick  and  sharp.  The  young 
General's  foot  was  in  the  stirrup;  he  hastily  withdrew 
it,  and  drawing  his  sword,  cried  out :  "  Follow  me,  my 
men  !  "  and  rushed  down  the  avenue. 

All  who  could  carry  arms  followed  him,  and  the 
priest  was  left  alone  in  the  vast  court-yard. 

"  My  daughters  !  "  he  said,  turning  toward  the  chapel 
with  unsteady  steps,  "  let  us  pray  ! " 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  and  Alix  followed  the  old 
man  to  the  foot  of  the  altar,  where  they  prostrated 
themselves.  The  other  women,  incapable  of  restraint 
at  such  a  moment,  remained  upon  the  steps,  and 
exchanged  in  low  voices,  their  fears  and  anxieties. 

Some  of  the  windows  of  the  chateau  were  open,  and 
blazing  with  lights.  In  the  court-yard,  lighted  partially 
by  the  windows  and  by  the  serene  sky  above,  the 
abandoned  horses  were  galloping  wildly,  scenting  the 
powder  from  afar. 

Meanwhile  the  sounds  of  the  fusillade,  mingled  with 
other  confused  sounds,  became  each  moment  more 
intense  and  distinct.  At  intervals,  the  thunder  of  the 
cannon  was  heard  in  the  distance,  silencing  the  nearer 
noises.  Suddenly  the  discharge  of  musketry  ceased, 
only  an  occasional  report  was  heard,  and  everything 


ALIX.  2*3 

seemed  to  indicate  that  the  fighting  was  over.  When, 
all  at  once,  the  entrance  to  the  avenue,  was  crowded 
with  Chouans. 

The  women  on  the  lawn  shrieked  and  huddled 
together.  Bellah  ran  out  to  them.  A  discharge  of 
musketry,  a  flash  through  the  trees,  and  every  window 
trembled  in  the  chapel ;  the  enemy  was  at  hand. 

The  private  guard  of  Fleur-de-Lis  had  fired,  and 
retreating  to  the  court -yard,  were  reloading  their 
pieces.  Bellah,  seeing  among  them  the  tall  figure  and 
white  hair  of  her  father,  wildly  thrust  aside  her  com- 
panions, and  made  her  way  to  the  stairs;  there  she 
stopped  short,  struck  to  the  heart  with  dismay. 

A  compact  mass  of  Republicans  had  marched  into 
the  avenue,  led  by  a  young  man  on  horseback,  who, 
bare-headed  and  sword  in  hand,  moved  rapidly  on, 
undismayed  by  the  shot  that  fell  around  him. 

By  the  swift  gleams  of  light,  Bellah  recognized 
Ilerve*. 

"  Not  another  shot !  "  cried  the  young  Commandant ; 
"  we  are  masters  of  the  chateau  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  shower  of  balls  from  the  windows  of 
the  old  manor  brought  down  some  twenty  Chouans. 

"  Not  another  shot !  "  repeated  the  Commandant ; 
"  the  chateau  is  yours !  "  * 

"  To  the  Chapel ! "  answered  the  ringing  voice  of 
Fleur-de-Lis,  "  to  the  Chapel !  God  and  the  King ! 
God  and  the  King !  " 

Hervd  leaped  from  his  horse;   and  turning  to  his 


S54  ALIX. 

men,  gave  them  some  rapid  orders,  adding  a  few 
agitated  words  recommending  to  their  humanity,  the 
innocent  creatures  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  chapel. 

"  Be  at  ease,  Commandant,"  said  a  grave  voice,  "  we 
know  that  your  jewel  of  a  sister  is  there,  that  is 
enough ! " 

"Don't  try  any  hazardous  experiments  with  your 
guns,"  said  Herve\  hastily ;  "  don't  fire  at  all,  do  you 
hear?     Come  on  !  " 

With  these  words  he  dashed  diagonally  across  the 
court-yard,  a  squad  of  grenadiers  at  his  heels,  while 
the  rest  of  the  men  followed  more  leisurely. 

The  Royalist  Chasseurs  had  scaled  the  hill ;  some  of 
them  were  already  in  the  chapel;  pushing  aside  the 
women  who  were  mad  with  terror,  they  posted  them- 
selves at  each  window,  and  at  each  aperture,  and  even 
ascended  to  the  small  bell  tower  on  the  roof.  The 
others  crowded  the  lawn.  Fleur-de-Lis  stood  in  the 
centre,  between  the  porch  and  the  steps,  in  one  hand  his 
sword,  and  in  the  other  a  pistol. 

The  Marquis  de  Kergant  and  Kado,  their  faces  black 
with  powder,  were  on  either  side  of  their  Chief. 
'  The  imperative  voice  of  Fleur-de-Lis  alone  broke 
the  silence  that  reigned  in  and  about  the  chapel.  The 
iletachment  commanded  by  Hervd,  rapidly  approached 
the  hill.  Fleur-de-Lis  raised  his  sword.  Two  succes- 
sive discharges  aimed  with  that  wonderful  precision  that 
distinguishes  the  Bretons,  strewed  the  ground  with 
corpses,  but  Heryg's  foot  was  on  the  steps. 


A  L I X  255 

'•Come  on !  "  he  cried,  "  Come  on,  my  men  !  " 

At  the  same  moment,  the  Grenadiers  simultaneoubly 
Evaded  the  chapel. 

To  the  impetuous  fury  of  the  assailants,  the  Royal- 
ists opposed  the  energy  of  despair.  A  terrible  melee 
followed  —  it  was  a  hand  to  hand  combat,  steel  met 
steel,  and  the  clatter  and  crash  of  arms  filled  the  air, 
mingled  with  groans  and  imprecations. 

At  the  height  of  this  terrible  contest,  a  red  light 
was  suddenly  reflected  in  the  arched  windows  over  the 
door.  This  light  increased,  and  soon  illuminated  the 
court-yard  with  its  sinister  glow.  Some  smoking  wads 
from  the  guns  had  fallen  in  front  of  a  stable  opposite 
fhe  chapel,  and  set  fire  to  the  dry  straw.  This  fire 
(  ommunicated  to  the  interior ;  large  sparks  flew  through 
the  air  among  masses  of  black  smoke,  while  tongues 
(>f  fire  came  through  the  windows  of  the  barn  and 
licked  the  roof. 

The  combat,  lighted  by  these  flames,  continued  with 
increasing  violence ;  the  blows  dealt  were  sure  and 
prompt.  The  wounded  and  the  dead,  lay  in  piles 
around  the  hill,  and  aided  the  Republicans  in  their 
attempts  to  scale  it. 

Herve\  wounded  in  the  arm,  at  last  reached  the 
centre  of  the  lawn,  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
Fleur-de-Lis,  who  still  invulnerable,  stood,  his  hair 
waving  in  the  wind,  an  I  sword  stained  with  blood. 

The  two  young  men  uttered  a  cry  as  they  recognized 
each  other,  then  their  two  blades  met,  but  at  the  first 


356  ALIX. 

pass,  the  sword  of  Fleur-de-Lis  was  broken.  At  this 
supreme  moment,  the  white  form  of  a  woman  appeared 
at  one  of  the  windows  of  the  chapel. 

"  Herve* ! "  she  cried,  in  a  piercing  voice  that  made 
itself  heard  above  the  combat.  "  Herve* !  they  are 
killing  my  father  ! " 

Herv£'s  arm  remained  uplifted,  his  eyes  left  the  face 
of  his  enemy  so  suddenly  disarmed.  He  perceived  a 
few  steps  off,  the  Marquis  de  Kergant  leaning  against 
the  wall,  and  surrounded  b}'  a  menacing  circle  of 
Grenadiers. 

"Bruidoux!  men!  To  the  rescue!"  cried  Herve*, 
rushing  toward  the  group,  "  save  the  old  man  !  " 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  the  report  of  a  pistol 
was  heard  behind  him,  and  he  fell  with  a  faint  groan. 
Fleur-de-Lis,  after  achieving  this  act  of  hate  rather  than 
of  courage,  threw  aside  his  pistol,  and  picked  up  a 
sword  fallen  from  the  hand  of  a  wounded  man ;  but 
Sergeant  Bruidoux  who  had  seen  the  murder,  took 
full  aim  at  the  young  Chief. 

"  Coward  !  "  he  cried,  and  fired. 

The  ball  penetrated  the  breast  of  Fleur-de-Lis.  Not 
one  of  the  details  which  we  have  sought  to  bring 
vividly  before  the  eyes  of  our  readers,  had  escaped  1he 
Republican  soldiers  in  the  court-yard.  The  officer  to 
whom  the  comnund  now  fell,  raised  his  voice. 

"  Back  to  the  court-yard  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  all  of  you." 

The  grenadiers  obeyed,  and  presently  a  discharge  of 
musketry  from  the  Republicans  swept  away  all  the 
living  on  the  lawn. 


ALIX.  257 

"Let  us  avenge  the  Commandant!"  shouted  the 
officer  ;  "  come  on,  my  men,  come  on  !  " 

All  the  men  scaled  the  hill  again,  led  by  him,  but 
after  the  most  determined  and  intrepid  exertions,  were 
compelled  to  fall  back  under  the  volley  which  came 
from  the  porch,  and  from  the  windows  and  bell  tower. 

The  soldiers  at  a  new  word  of  command,  scattered 
themselves  over  the  court-yard,  where  the  heat  from 
the  fire  had  become  almost  unendurable.  J3ome  of 
them  took  shelter  behind  the  sheds,  and  behind  the 
wagons,  and  there  took  deliberate  aim  at  the  windows 
and  bell  tower ;  the  success  of  their  shots  was  shown 
by  the  gradually  lessening  fire  from  the  chapel. 

Suddenly  a  tall  figure  of  almost  gigantic  stature, 
emerged  from  the  porch  and  came  out  alone  upon  the 
lawn. 

Bruidoux,  who  was  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  slope, 
started  up. 

"  Boys  !  "  he  cried  with  all  the  strength  of  his  lungs. 
"  Hold  your  fire !  it  is  the  old  Guard,  the  one  who 
saved  my  life.  Reward  him  for  that,  boys — reward  him, 
I  tell  you !  " 

It  was  indeed  Kado ;  he  did  not  appear  to  have 
heard  the  Sergeant's  voice,  but  profiting  by  the 
momentary  truce,  permitted  by  the  astonished  Repub- 
licans, he  lifted  two  bodies  from  out  the  pile  of  corpses, 
Ihose  of  Herv^  and  Fleur-de-Lis,  and  bore  them  back 
to  the  chapel. 

"  Surrender ! "  shouted  Bruidoux.  "  Surrender !  The 
fire  has  caught  the  bell  tower!  The  chapel  is  burning  I " 
17 


258  A  I.  IX. 

No  voice  was  heard  in  reply;  the  chairs  and  benches 
which  barricaded  the  entrance  of  the  porch  were 
pushed  aside,  and  the  massive  door  of  the  little  church 
closed  with  much  noise. 

The  terrible  information  conveyed  by  Rruidoux  was 
correct ;  burning  brands  from  the  barn  had  been 
carried  by  the  wind  to  the  dry  roof  of  the  shed  next 
the  chapel,  and  the  flames  were  already  enveloping  the 
bell  tower.  Two  or  three  Chouans  still  lingered  there, 
reluctant  to  leave  a  spot  from  which  they  could  take 
such  certain  aim ;  while  from  the  lower  windows  of 
the  chapel  still  came  an  occasional  shot. 

Bruidoux  approached  the  officer  who  had  taken 
Hervd's  command. 

"  Captain,"  he  said,  "  can  you  do  nothing  for  these 
poor  creatures  ?  " 

The  officer,  with  contracted  brows  and  both  hands 
clasping  the  handle  of  his  sword,  the  point  of  which 
was  buried  in  the  earth,  watched  with  sombre  gaze  the 
progress  of  the  fire. 

"  What  would  you  have  me  do  ? "  he  answered, 
"  they  have  not  ceased  firing.  I  cannot  sacrifice  the 
li  fe  of  one  of  my  men  uselessly.  Look  at  those  fellows 
up  there;  do  you  imagine  that  they  dream  of  sur- 
rendering ?  " 

"  I  will  go  and  speak  to  them  myself,"  said  Bruidoux. 
"  Will  you  allow  me  to  promise  them  their  lives  ?  " 

"Promise  anything,"  said  the  officer,  turning  his 
face  aside,  u  for  this  is  simply  horrible." 


A  MX.  £59 

Bruidoux  hastily  rushed  up  the  hill,  his  clothes  were 
pierced  by  two  bullets,  but  he  pushed  on  and  in  safety 
gained  the  shelter  of  the  porch.  He  shook  the  door 
violently  and  cried  out: 

"  Kado  !  Citizens  !  Do  you  want  life,  liberty  ?  Come 
out !     Both  are  promised  to  you  !    Come  out !  " 

The  brave  Sergeant's  breath  was  spent  in  vain,  either 
the  roar  of  the  flames  covered  his  voice  or  a  melan- 
choly experience  of  the  crimes  by  which  this  war  had 
been  tarnished,  caused  his  promises  to  be  discredited. 
At  all  events,  he  could  elicit  no  reply.  He  did  not 
turn  from  his  self-appointed  embassy  however,  until  the 
shouts  of  his  comrades  warned  him  that  the  roof  of  the 
chapel  had  begun  to  fall,  and  that  his  retreat  would  be 
cut  off. 

During  this  time  let  us  see  what  was  going  on  within 
the  chapel.  There  was  not  a  square  foot  of  the  floor 
on  which  the  dead  were  not  piled.  New  victims  were 
constantly  falling  from  the  windows,  or  rolling  down 
the  narrow  staircase  that  led  to  the  tower.  The  arched 
ceiling  was  covered  with  cracks,  through  which  poured 
dense  black  smoke,  while  tiny  jets  of  flame  ran  at 
intervals  along  the  cornices. 

The  old  Priest  lay  lifeless  at  the  foot  of  the  altar-, 
the  Canoness  and  one  of  the  servants  of  the  chateau, 
were  also  dead  at  his  side ;  other  women  living  and 
more  unhappy,  were  convulsively  weeping  and  wringing 
their  hands.  .  * 

Bellah    and    Alix,    with    dishevelled    hair,   were  on 


260  A  L  I  X  . 

their  knees,  lavishing  useless  care  on  An  dree*,  who  had 
fainted  with  terror.  From  time  to  time  the  two  young 
creatures  turned  their  distracted  eyes  on  Herve*  and 
Fleur-de-Lis,  who  lay  side  by  side  near  the  altar. 

Kado,  aided  by  two  young  fellows,  had  lifted  the 
dead  boiies  from  the  sculptured  flag -stones  that 
indicated  the  family  vault,  and  aided  by  iron  bars  torn 
from  the  balustrade,  had  pried  up  a  granite  slab  in 
front  of  the  altar.  At  once  a  flight  of  stairs  was 
visible ;  the  bars  of  iron  they  had  used  now  held  up  the 
granite  slab.  As  soon  as  the  task  was  accomplished, 
the  youths  who  had  aided  Kado,  snatched  their  guns, 
and  went  back  to  the  window,  only  to  fall  dead  a  few 
moments  later. 

As  soon  as  the  entrance  to  the  crypt  was  thus  made 
practicable,  the  women  rushed  toward  it.  Kado  pointed 
out  to  them  the  necessity  of  caution,  for  were  they  to 
overturn  the  granite  slab  from  its  present  position,  he 
could  not  lift  it  alone,  and  he  had  now  no  one  to  aid 
him.  "  If  this  misfortune  should  come  to  pass,"  he 
said,  "  they  were  lost,  as  the  last  road  to  safety  would 
be  closed."  He  made  them  descend  one  by  one,  and 
finally  all  had  disappeared  into  the  darkness  below. 
Turning  toward  the  altar,  Kado  lifted  with  one  hand, 
the  frail  inanimate  form  of  Andree,  and  drew  Bellah 
on  with  the  other  to  the  subterranean  vault. 

"  No,  no  ;  Hervd  first,"  murmured  the  young  girl, 
resisting  the  strong  arm  of  her  old  servant. 

M  Do  not  be  troubled,  Mademoiselle,"  answered  Kado, 


A  L  I  X  .  2(31 

M  T  promise  \  jj  that  I  will  save  him,  but  go  down  ut 
once,  or  I  can  answer  for  nothing." 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  obeyed.  Kado  descended 
^•after  her,  bearing  Herve*'s  sister  in  his  arms,  but  went 
back  to  the  chapel  instantly.  The  smoke  was  moment- 
arily becoming  more  dense. 

"Alix!  my  child,"  cried  Kado,  in  an  agony  of 
suspense,  "  where  are  you  ?     I  can  see  nothing." 

u  I  am  here,  father,"  answered  Alix,  "  close  by  you." 

"  Thank  God !  my  child.  Oh !  what  a  night  this  has 
been.  Where  is  the  Chief?  Can  you  see  him?  I 
must  rescue  him  first,  and  then  our  young  master,  if  it 
be  God's  will.    Where  is  he ?    Which  is  Fleur-de-Lis  ? " 

"  Here,"  said  the  girl,  "  this  is  he." 

Kado  lifted  the  inanimate  body  pointed  out  by  Alix, 
and  plunged  again  into  the  darkness  below. 

"  Come,  Alix  !  "  he  cried,  "  come !  You  must  not 
linger  a  moment.  Follow  me  !  You  are  close  behind 
me,  are  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  father,"  answered  Alix,  staggering  to  her  feet, 
but  she  did  not  follow  her  father.  She  went  toward 
the  wounded  man  lying  at  the  base  of  the  altar. 
"  Fleur-de-Lis,"  she  said,  "  I  told  you,  did  I  not,  that 
were  you  ever  to  deceive  me,  I  should  find  a  way  of 
revenging  myself?" 

A  sigh  escaped  from  the  breast  of  the  wounded  man. 

"  How  dastardly  has  been  your  conduct !  "  continued 
the  young  girl,  and  her  words  came  through  her  close- 
shut  teeth.     "  How  barbarous  has  been  your  treatment 


232  ALIX. 

of  me !  Ah!  you  well  knew  that  I  would  endure 
everything  rather  than  reveal  to  my  lather  the  shame 
of  his  child,  rather  than  wound  the  generous  heart  of 
my  innocent  rival.  Poor  Bellah  !  I  have  wounded  her 
sorely.  The  worst  blow  of  all,  however,  I  have  kept 
for  myself.  I  did  not  choose  that  her  fair  brow  should 
redden  at  hearing  of  your  infamy.  She  will  weep  for 
you  —  she  will  shed  her  tears,  for  she  did  not  know 
you ! " 

While  Alix  spoke,  the  face  of  Fleur-de-Lis  was  con- 
tracted with  an  expression  of  intense  agony.  He 
seemed  struggling  to  regain  his  fast  failing  strength. 
His  lips  parted.  "  Listen  !  "  he  murmured.  "  I  have 
never  loved  any  one  but  you.  Pride,  ambition  carried 
me  away,  but,  before  God,  I  love  only  you.  Alix,  take 
my  hand ;  you  are  my  wife  before  God !  " 

"  Poor  wretch  !  "  said  the  girl,  "  he  deceives  me  still ; 
but  I  love  him — I  will  save  him  ! "  at  the  same  moment 
she  wrapped  her  strong  young  arms  around  the  Chief, 
and  bore  him  toward  the  granite  slab,  still  suspended 
as  we  have  described. 

Standing  there  at  the  mouth  of  the  crypt  was  her 
father,  looking  at  her  with  terrible  eyes.  Alix  recoiled, 
her  knees  trembled,  and  her  burthen  rolled  to  her  feet. 

"  Father  !  "  she  cried  in  mortal  anguish,  "  leave  me  to 
die,  but  take  him  !  " 

"No,  I  will  save  neither  you  nor  him,"  answered 
Kado,  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "  Never  has  treason  found  a 
resting  place  here  ! " 


A  L  I  3L .  263 

He  turned  as  he  spoke ;  one  touch  of  his  foot 
removed  the  two  iron  bars  which  held  up  the  slab,  and 
the  stone  fell  with  a  dull  sound. 

"  Now  let  us  pray  to  God ! "  said  the  old  man, 
solemnly.  "  Pray,  Monsieur  le  Due,  if  so  be  that  you 
understand  my  words.  Pray  you  for  Herve*,  if  you 
love  him  —  " 

A  shriek  from  Alix  interrupted  her  father.  It  was 
the  last  she  ever  uttered.  Sheets  of  flame  enveloped 
the  chapel ;  a  terrible  crash  was  heard,  and  the  entire 
roof  fell,  burying  the  living  and  the  dead. 

One  brief  hour  had  witnessed  all  these  disasters. 
When  the  pale  light  of  dawn  mingled  with  the  last 
dying  flames  of  the  fire,  it  lighted  only  a  solitude, 
made  terrible  by  the  debris  of  humanity. 


2cU  BURIED     ALIVE. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

BURIED     ALIVE. 

THE  cavern,  within  which  was  assembled  all  that 
remained  of  the  Kergant  household,  extended  into 
the  side  of  the  hill,  under  a  roof  sustained  by  four 
arches,  and  on  one  side  by  the  natural  rocks.  On  the 
damp  soil,  the  foot  struck  man}^  a  protruding  stone, 
while  an  occasional  fissure  in  the  rock  insufficiently 
renewed  the  close  atmosphere  of  the  crypt.  When  the 
granite  slab,  that  closed  its  only  issue,  fell  back  under 
Kado's  foot,  no  ray  of  light  entered  the  dreary  spot, 
while,  at  the  same  moment,  the  dull  shock  that  shook 
the  vault  announced  to  the  unhappy  captives  that  the 
secret  of  their  retreat  was  shared  with  no  living  soul, 
and  that  their  tomb  was  sealed  over  their  heads. 

But  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  was  the  only  one 
among  them  all,  who  realized  the  horror  of  their  posi- 
tion;  the  others,  silent  and  almost  idiotic  from  terror, 
sobbed  in  a  corner.  At  the  noise  of  the  falling  walls, 
Bellah  darted  up  the  staircase  and  sought,  with  a 
convulsive  effort,  to  lift  the  stone,  but  the  strength  of 
a  dozen  men  would  have  been  required  to  succeed  in 
this  attempt.  Bellah  sank  on  the  steps  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  burning  hands.  Presently  she  rose  and 
felt  her  way  to  the  place  where  she  had  left  Andree*. 


BURIED    ALIVE.  265 

"  May  the  Good  God,"  she  said,  as  she  knelt  at  her 
friend's  side,  "  may  the  Good  God  spare  you  the  anguish 
of  awakening." 

As  she  spoke,  a  groan  came  from  the  lips  of  the 
wounded  man  who  lay  near  Andre  e,  whom  Bellah  had 
heard  Kado  eall  by  the  name  of  Fleur-de-Lis. 

"  You  are  suffering,  Sir,"  she  said,  as  she  leaned  over 
him  whom  she  supposed  to  be  the  young  chief. 

"Bellah!  is  that  you?"  murmured  the  wounded 
man. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  uttered  a  despairing  shriek. 

"Herve*!"  she  cried;  "my  Herv^ ! "  and  her  hand 
ran  over  the  brow  and  bleeding  breast  of  the  young 
man,  but  with  such  tender  caution  that  the  touch  was 
like  that  of  the  wings  of  a  bird.  After  a  few  moments 
consecrated  to  silent  prayer,  and  also  to  secret  shame 
at  having  forgotten  for  a  moment  her  dead  father, 
Bellah  said  softly : 

"  It  is  really  yourself  then,  Her^e* !  Really  you ! 
We  are  together  again,  but  in  what  a  place,  and  in 
what  an  hour  I     Merciful  God  !  you  do  not  know  —  " 

"I  do  know,"  interrupted  Heive* ;  "I  am  suffering, 
but  I  have  never  lost  consciousness.  I  know  where 
we  are,  only —  I — I  dare  not  ask  —  Andree,  my  little 
sister?" 

"She  is  here,  living,  but  she  has  fainted  —  she  is 
close  to  you." 

"Alas!  I  cannot  thank  God!  Would  it  not  be 
better  for  her  —  tell  me,  Bellah  —  you  are  courageous  , 


266  BURIED    ALIVE. 

the  stone  above  lias  been  shut  down,  has  it  not?  And 
there  is  no  one  left  alive  in  the  chapel?" 

"No  one,  unless  some  miracle  has  taken  place/' 

"In  the  name  of  Heaven!  keep  Andree  in  ignorance 
of  this,  dear  Bellah,  until  the  very  end." 

"Hush,  Herve !  hush!  I  hear  her  move.  She  is 
again  conscious,  and  will  hear  you." 

Andree*  was,  in  fact,  gradually  returning  to  herself. 
She  extended  her  arms,  and  turned  on  her  cold  bed, 
like  a  child  awakening  in  its  cradle. 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant,  leaning  over  her,  called 
her  in  a  caressing  voice.  The  poor  little  creature  mur- 
mured at  first  a  few  meaningless  words,  and  then  asked 
if  it  would  not  soon  be  light ;  but  by  degrees  the 
knowledge  of  the  terrible  truth  came  to  her. 

" Where  am  I?"  she  cried.  "My  God!  where 
ami?" 

Bellah,  covering  her  with  kisses,  assured  her  that  she 
was  in  safety  and  with  Hervd,  at  the  same  time  putting 
the  young  man's  hand  into  that  of  his  sister.  She 
then  informed  Andree*  of  that  which  it  was  impossible 
to  conceal  from  her  —  the  terrible  losses  they  had 
undergone,  and  all  the  circumstances  which  had  com- 
pelled her  and  them  to  seek  a  refuge  in  this  subterra- 
nean place ;  but  she  added  that  Kado,  with  two  or 
three  of  their  old  servants,  had  escaped,  and  that  he 
would  come  to  extricate  them  from  their  prison,  as  soon 
as  it  would  be  possible  to  do  so  without  running  the 
risk  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Republicans. 


BURIED     ALIVE.  267 

These  assurances,  added  to  the  presence  of  a  brother 
whom  she  had  never  hoped  to  see  again  in  this  life, 
appeased  AndrecTs  trouble,  and  a  few  rajs  of  daylight, 
which  by  this  time  had  found  its  way  through  the 
iissures  of  the  rocks,  contributed  greatly  to  her  comfort. 

The  two  young  girls,  with  their  united  strength, 
assisted  Herve*  into  a  position  where  his  wound  pained 
him  less ;  the  shot,  fired  by  Fleur-de-Lis,  had  entered 
his  shoulder,  and  each  movement  elicited  a  faint  groan. 
But  he  endeavored  to  smile,  and  by  his  calm  speech,  to 
soothe  the  anxiety  of  his  companions. 

Andrei  did  her  best,  in  her  turn,  to  interest  him  in 
her  childish  talk,  and  thus  cause  him  to  forget  his 
pain  —  her  furtive  tears  fell  heavily,  however,  when  he 
could  not  see  or  suspect  them. 

Bell  ah  left  them  every  little  while,  and  went  to  the 
peasant  women  who  sat  rocking  to  and  fro,  alternately 
lamenting  loudly,  and  then  falling  into  a  dull  apathy  of 
despair. 

Resistance  under  great  misfortunes  is  measured  less 
by  physical  strength,  than  by  that  of  the  soul.  Bellah, 
whose  delicate  complexion  was  still  pale  after  weeks  of 
suffering,  had  developed  a  new  life  in  this  emergency, 
under  which  her  more  robust  companions  had  entirely 
succumbed.  Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  addressed  in 
turn  each  one  of  these  poor  creatures,  called  them  by 
name,  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  spoke  tenderly 
of  the  faith  in  which  they  had  been  educated,  of  the 
God  who  held  them   in  the  hollow  of  His  hand,  and 


268  BURIED    ALIVE. 

finally  succeeded  in  inspiring  them  with  some  degree  of 
lesignation. 

Several  times  in  the  course  of  each  hour  this  noble 
young  girl  returned  to  this  afflicted  group.  They 
clung  to  her  dress,  kissed  her  hands,  and  implored  her 
not  to  abandon  them. 

Herve  was,  to  all  appearance,  very  calm  ;  he  had  lost 
much  blood,  and  therefore  the  wound  had  given  him 
less  fever.  Andred,  glad  that  his  sufferings  were  less, 
and  confident  in  the  illusions  with  which  her  fears  had 
been  lulled,  by  degrees  recovered  much  of  the  gracious 
vivacity  of  her  nature  ;  she  formed  projects  for  the 
Future,  far  from  suspecting  that  all  the  Future  of  her 
young  life  was  enclosed  within  the  narrow  limits  of 
this  funereal  cavern.  Her  innocent  faith  increased  the 
anguish  it  was  intended  to  relieve.  Mademoiselle  de 
Kergant,  anxious  to  moderate  hopes  which  were  soon 
to  be  so  cruelly  disappointed,  reminded  her  gently  of 
the  death  and  mourning,  all  about  her. 

"  Bellah,"  interrupted  Hervd,  "  will  you  pardon  me 
for  the  part  I  have  had  in  all  the  misfortunes  which 
have  overwhelmed  you?  I  ask  this  forgiveness  from 
your  goodness,  from  your  justice." 

"  How  can  I  blame  you,  Hervd,"  answered  the  young 
girl,  "before  this  wound  which  you  received  in  your 
attempt  to  save  my  poor  father  ?  " 

"  Tell  him  that  you  love  him  still,"  said  Mademoiselle 
de  Pelven ;  "  that  would  oe  the  best  thing  you  oouhl 
do" 


BURIED     ALIVE.  269 

For  Heaven's  sake,  dear  Anclred,"  cried  Bellah. 

" Where  would  be  the  harm?"  interrupted  Andree*, 
with  an  emotion  which  did  not  altogether  quench  her 
childish  gayety. 

"Our  misfortunes,"  she  continued,  "are,  I  well 
know,  very  terrible.  I  feel  this  quite  as  well  as  your- 
self, but  why  undervalue  the  consolation  sent  by  God, 
the  Father  ?  It  is  His  hand  that  has  directed  all,  and 
I  bless  it  even  while  I  weep.  God  has  not  chosen  you 
to  become  the  prey  of  that  bad  man,  that  miserable 
Fleur-de-Lis,  for  you  were  offering  yourself  up  as  a 
sacrifice.  I  know  this,  and  it  is  time  that  Herve  knew 
it  also.  Besides,  it  is  useless  for  you  to  equivocate, 
and  I  will  tell  you  why.  You  remember  your  letter  — 
your  famous  letter?  Well,  it  was  I  who  took  it  —  I 
sent  it  to  Herve\  and  he  knows  it  now  by  heart,  I  am 
very  sure  !  " 

Mademoiselle  de  Kergant  was  literally  stunned  by 
this  revelation;  then  she  stammered  a  few  words  of 
reproach,  but  the  trembling  hand  of  the  wounded  man 
suddenly  grasping  hers,  Bellah  relapsed  into  silence ; 
her  tears  fell  in  a  burning  shower  on  Pelven's  face. 

Andree*  drew  back,  and  left  the  two  comparatively 
alone.  She  went  toward  one  of  the  fissures  and  tried 
to  enlarge  it ;  in  doing  so,  it  seemed  to  her  that  one  of 
the  square  stones  set  with  masonry  was  loose,  and 
moved  under  her  touch.  She  removed  it  without  the 
smallest  difficulty,  and  the  cavern  was  filled  with  light. 
Andree*  uttered  a  cry  of  joy,  and  called  to  her  sister  to 


270  BURIED    ALIVE. 

come.  The  removal  of  the  stone  had  made  an  opening 
in  the  wall  into  which  one  could  put  one's  fist.  This 
opening  continued  through  the  masonry  by  a  vertical 
and  irregular  fissure,  but  Bellah  in  vain  tried  to  enlarge 
it.  The  only  advantage  the  captives  obtained  from  it 
j  was  to  breathe  a  less  stifling  air,  and  to  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  several  of  the  paving  stones  in  the  court,  and  some 
green  waving  branches.  This  dim  vision  of  the  exterior 
world  of  life,  liberty  and  sunshine  occasioned  Made- 
moiselle de  Kergant  an  acute  pang.  Andrei,  on  the 
contrary,  was  confirmed  by  this  prospect,  limited  as  it 
was,  in  the  hope  of  a  speedy  deliverance,  and,  indeed, 
regarded  it  as  half  realized.  She  could  not  tear  herself 
from  this  loop-hole,  but  continued  to  watch  there,  with 
feverish  impatience,  for  the  coming  of  a  liberator. 

Bellah,  profiting  by  one  of  these  moments  when 
Andree*  was  absorbed  in  this  vain  contemplation,  asked 
Herve*,  in  a  low  voice,  if  it  were  not  possible  that  their 
united  voices  might  be  heard  from  outside,  through 
this  opening,  the  form  and  dimensions  of  which 
she  desciibed. 

Herve*  replied  that  he  did  not  think  it  possible  on 
account  of  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  and  the  irregu- 
larities of  the  aperture  which  would  break  the  voice, 
and  probably  smother  it  entirely. 

"  In  any  case,"  he  said,  "  the  sounds  would  be  too 
faint,  to  be  noticed  by  any  indifferent  person,  and  if 
any  one  came  in  search  of  a  relative  or  a  friend,  he 
would  assuredly  enter  the  chapel.     In  that  case  we 


BURIED     ALIVE.  271 

should  certainly  hear  his  steps,  xnd  it  would  be  time 
enough  then  to  attempt  this  last  resource.  Until  then 
our  cries  would  only  have  the  effect  of  increasing  the 
terror  of  those  about  us,  and  Andree  and  the  others 
would  no  longer  entertain  a  hope.  Oh  !  Bellah  !  with 
what  joy  I  would  give  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins, 
to  spare  you  and  the  others,  all  that  I  foresee." 

44  But,  Herve*,  all  is  not  lost.  They  must  come,  if 
only  to  bring  the  — "  Bellah's  voice  was  choked,  and 
her  lips  trembled  convulsively. 

Herve  continued  presently. 

44  Bellah,"  he  said,  44it  is  impossible  for  me  to  deceive 
you,  you  do  not  desire  me  to  do  so,  either ;  they  will 
come,  of  course,  as  you  say,  but  not  for  two  days,  per- 
haps for  three.  The  whole  country  is  in  a  state  of 
terror.  I  have  witnessed  scenes  of  wholesale  butchery 
like  this,  abandoned  for  clays,  and  then,  too,  is  it  likely 
that  those  who  come  will  know  the  secret  of  this  cave  ? 
Will  you  then  have  strength  enough  to  utter  a  cry? 
And  would  this  cry  be  heard?  This  is  more  than 
doublful." 

44  Then,  Herve,  there  is  no  hope,"  said  Bellah,  calmly. 
<4  Speak  without  fear,  I  am  ready  to  hear  you." 

44  We  have,"  answered  Herve\  44  one  hope  —  only  one. 
It  is  Francis  alone,  who  can  save  us.  His  duty 
attached  him  to  the  side  of  the  General.  If  he  has  sur- 
vived the  battle  which  has  taken  place  this  night,  I  do 
not  doubt  that  he  —  I  don't  know  what  he  would  do, 
but  it  seems  to  me  that  I  would  save  him,  if  I  were  in 
his  place  and  he  were  here.     Poor  Francis  I" 


272  BURIED    ALIVE. 

Long  hours  thus  passed  away ;  the  clay  was  drawing 
to  a  close,  and  the  crypt  was  becoming  very  dark. 
Andree  had  seated  herself  at  her  brother's  side.  She 
began  to  suspect  that  she  had  been  deceived,  and  was 
silent  and  motionless.  When  the  last  ray  of  day-light 
disappeared,  she  could  no  longer  restrain  her  anguish  ; 
her  sobs  were  mingled  with  words  of  despair.  Bellah 
took  her  in  her  arms,  but  her  caresses  had  no  power  to 
soothe  the  poor  child.  Herve*,  whose  fever  had  set  in 
with  violence,  with  difficulty,  retained  his  reason. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  cavern,  the  four  women 
servants  offered  a  still  more  melancholy  spectacle. 
Their  hopes  had  vanished,  and  they  were  beginning  to 
feel  the  first  pangs  of  hunger,  and  to  dread  the  bitter 
end.  They  had  awakened  from  their  torpor,  and  rushed 
about  the  cavern,  striking  their  foreheads  against  the 
wall,  and  uttering  wild  shrieks  of  despair. 

These  outcries  were  so  terrible,  and  so  suggestive  of 
wild  beasts,  that  Andree*  ceased  to  sob,  and  presently 
fell  into  a  profound  sleep  of  exhaustion ;  and  soon  the 
other  women,  yielding  to  the  pious  consolations  lav- 
ished upon  them  by  their  young  mistress,  succumbed 
also  to  exhausted  nature,  and  relapsed  into  silence  and 
apparent  insensibility. 

We  will  touch  but  ligli  tly  on  the  hours  that  followed. 
Mademoiselle  spent  them  on  her  knees  in  prayer ; 
Herve*  had  become  delirious,  and  strange  words  fell 
from  his  lips.  Bellah  made  no  effort  to  arouse  him 
from  this  delirium,  which  was  at  least  forge tfulness. 


BURIED    ALIVE.  273 

Towards  morning,  she  too,  yielded  to  the  sleep  that 
weighed  down  her  heavy  lids. 

She  was  awakened  by  Herve"s  voice  calling  her  with 
strange  reiterance. 

"  Bellah  !  Bellah  !  "  he  said ;  "  Listen  !  I  hear  them 
walking  in  the  chapel ;  I  hear  steps  !  There  are  people 
in  the  chapel." 

Bellah  at  first  believed  that  the  wounded  man  was 
deceived  by  the  illusions  of  fever,  but,  when  she 
listened,  she  heard  distinctly  a  sound  of  footsteps  over 
her  head.  She  started  up,  the  day-light  had  again 
crept  into  the  cavern,  she  found  the  staircase,  mounted 
it  rapidly,  and  struck  the  stone  that  covered  it  with 
her  hand. 

"  No,  no,  not  there  !  "  said  Herve\  u  It  is  impossible 
for  them  to  hear  you ;  go  to  the  opening,  Bellah,  and 
call,  call  with  all  your  strength  !  " 

Bellah  rushed  down  the  stairs,  and  placing  her  lips 
to  the  aperture  which  chance  had  shown  them  the  day 
before,  she  uttered  several  cries  in  quick  succession  ; 
then  held  her  breath  to  listen. 

"  My  God  !  "  she  murmured  in  despair ;  "  I  near  c  v 
one  sound,  Herv^  !     They  have  left  the  chapel ! " 

Herve*  did  not  reply. 

"If  we  could  only  all  call  together,"  continued 
Bellah,  "perhaps  —  " 

As  she  spoke  she  ran  to  her  companions  in  misfor- 
tune, and  did  her  best  to  arouse  them  from  their  stupor, 
by  imploring  them  to  jo'ij  their  voices  to  hers.     Andree* 

19 


271  BURIED     ALIVE. 

alone  seemed  to  comprehend  her  words ;  she  half  roaa 
upon  her  knees,  but  fell  back  unconscious.  Bellah 
shook  her  head  sadly,  and  then  went  back  to  the  opening 
iu  the  wall,  and  looked  out. 

"  I  see  them  !  "  she  cried ;  "  I  see  them  !  " 

"  Who  are  they  ?     Do  you  know  them  ?  "  said  Hervo*. 

u  Yes ;  it  is  the  young  officer." 

"  Francis  ?  " 

"And  the  Sergeant.  I  see  two  more  —  they  are 
going  away,  but  slowly  and  reluctantly." 

u  Try  again,  Bellah,  once  more  !  Summon  all  your 
strength.     In  God's  name,  try  again  !  " 

Bellah  repeated  her  cries  at  short  intervals. 

"  Well,  are  they  coming  ?  Do  they  hear  ?  "  asked 
Hervd,  in  a  choked  voice. 

"  No,  no  !  Good  Heavens  !  how  cruel  you  are  !  I 
no  longer  see  them  —  they  have  passed  the  only  bit  of 
the  court-yard  which  I  can  see ;  but  there  they  are 
again,  at  the  entrance  of  the  avenue  —  they  are  going ! 
Oh !  Lord  God  in  Heaven !  Make  them  hear  me ! 
Help,  Francis!     Help!" 

Bellah  had  thrown  into  her  voice  all  her  remaining 
strength.  Herve  questioned  her  again,  but  she  an- 
swered him  with  difficulty. 

"They  have  stopped.  They  are  turning  back,  I 
think.  Yes  ;  I  think  they  have  heard  me  I  They  seem 
to  be  consulting  each  other !  Alas !  they  have  gone  -  - 
they  have  gone  !  " 

As  Bellah  uttered  these  last  words  amid  strangling 
sobs,  she  fell  fainting  upon  the  ground. 


fctJRIED    ALIVE.  2?5 

Herve^  had  a  new  attack  of  delirium  —  a  strange 
phantasmagoria  passed  before  his  eyes ;  gay  and  laugh- 
ing images  dissipated  the  horrors  of  reality.  He  heard 
again  footsteps  above  his  head,  and  fancied  that  there 
was  some  great  labor  going  on  there.  Suddenly  —  was 
this  delirium?  —  the  pure  sunlight  entered  the  crypt  in 
floods ;  human  beings  stood  at  the  head  of  the  steps ; 
dark  shadows  were  clearly  defined  against  the  radiant 
sky.     "  Pelven !  "  shouted  a  youthful  voice. 

"  Help,  Francis !  Help,  my  Francis !  "  answered 
Herve*. 

The  old  chateau  had  been  preserved  from  the  fire  by 
the  massive  thickness  of  its  walls,  and  an  hour  after 
the  scene  we  have  just  related,  Commandant  Herve*  lay 
in  the  great  antique  bed  wherein  he  had  slept  in  his 
childhood. 

Within  the  deep  recess  of  a  window,  an  old  Surgeon 
in  uniform  was  arranging  his  professional  implements. 
A  personage,  whose  appearance  was  both  solemn  and 
ridiculous,  and  whose  pantaloons  were  covered  to  the 
knees  by  a  white  apron,  raised  with  one  hand  the  head 
of  the  wounded  man,  and  presented  him,  with  the 
other,  a  cup  of  bouillon. 

"I  am  inclined  to  believe,  Commandant,"  said  this 
singular  nurse,  "  that  you  had  a  devilish  night  in  that 
.catacomb." 

"  Yes,  my  good  old  Bruidoux,  the  night  was  indeed 
pretty  severe.     How  is  my  sister  ?  " 

"Coming  up  like  a  fower,  Commandant.     Indeed, 


276  BtTHIEDALIVlL. 

everybody  is  doing  well,  except  that  poor  little  fellow, 
Kado's  boy,  and  he  nearly  breaks  my  heart.  But  I 
have  an  idea,  Commandant.  I  think  I  will  adopt  that 
boy;  he  deserves  it,  for,  in  the  first  place,  he  is  an 
orphan;  in  the  next  place,  he  saved  my  life  in  the 
forest;  and  lastly,  he  has  just  saved  yours.  If  we  had 
not  met  him  in  the  avenue,  and  if  he  had  not  led  us  to 
that  fissure  in  the  rocks,  we  should  have  gone  for  good. 
1  think,  therefore,  that  I  had  best  adopt  him.  I  will 
be  his  father;  Colibri,  on  the  other  side,  will  act  as 
mother,  because  he,  you  know,  is  especially  amiable 
and  gentle." 

Francis  came  in  at  this  moment. 

"  Commandant,"  he  said,  "  Mademoiselle  Bellah  is 
improving,  ever  since  the  Surgeon  said  that  your  wound 
was  not  dangerous,  and  that  he  would  bring  you  round 
all  right." 

"  I  can  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  interposed  the  old 
Surgeon,  "if  you  do  not  all  get  out  of  here.  I  will 
not  have  so  much  talking  in  this  room ;  do  you  under- 
stand ?     Now  be  off  with  you  ! " 

lie  turned  the  Sergeant  and  Francis  from  the  apart- 
ment, and  Herve*  was  soon  sleeping  profoundly. 


THB  END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 


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